


You Found Me

by SailorChibi



Series: mama and papa verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, AoU never happened, Carrying, Civil War DEFINITELY never happened, Communication, Daddy Steve, Daddy Tony, Discussion of kinks, Domestic Avengers, Established Relationship, Feminization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Tony Stark, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Infantilism, Insecure Tony Stark, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, New Relationship, Nicknames, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, PTSD, Pacifiers, Panic Attacks, Panties, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Rating subject to change, Team as Family, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark in panties, and have nothing to do with clint, and though there will be some angst, and what they mean in today's world, any steamy scenes will be between tony and steve, but I am trying my hand at it, daddy's issues, discussions, explorations of traditional roles, ignores anything after the first avengers movie, it's gonna be a good ride, kinks outside the bedroom, little clint, mama tony, never written a genderfluid character before, non sexual infantilism, past daddy coulson, pull-ups, sippy cups, spoiled clint barton, stuffed animals, the avengers are a good family, the avengers are supportive, thumb sucking, ultimately all is well, women's clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Clint may have found his place, but Tony's not really sure about his. Steve and Clint help him figure it out - in different, but ultimately just as meaningful, ways.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was commissioned for this before when you're lost inside was even finished. I was asked for a closer look at Tony's and Steve's evolving relationship, with Tony realizing how much he enjoys taking on more of the traditionally female role and his resulting struggles with that.

It was half past five and the stack of paperwork sitting in front of Tony Stark had lost all meaning a long time ago. He propped his head up with one hand and idly drew a little Iron Man figure on a piece of scrap paper. The drawing wasn't half bad if he said so himself, but it looked lonely there on the page. So he added a Captain America figure, big and bulging with muscles, and then a tiny Hawkeye between Captain America and Iron Man, holding both their hands. Hawkeye was wearing his favorite purple uniform and smiling so big that it practically carved his head in two.

"Cute," Pepper said, leaning over his shoulder. Her breath washed across the back of Tony's neck and he shivered a little as she added, "But I hardly think that Clint is really so short. He's about the same height as you."

"All lies," Tony said absently, scratching out a star shape on Captain America's chest. There was a reason that Tony favored heels whenever he could get away with it and secret lifts when he couldn't; an inch or two could make all the difference in the world, and he often envied Pepper for the four- and five-inch stiletto heels she strutted around in. He had a private fantasy of being eye-to-eye with Steve outside of the suit.

"I never lie," Pepper said demurely, which was a lie in and of itself, and Tony snorted to let her know. She just smiled, leaning back in her chair and stretching. Though it wasn't even six yet, and thus still an early night by all accounts, she looked tired - to Tony, anyway. To the untrained eye, Pepper looked just as perfect and put-together as she had when she'd stalked into the office at seven that morning. Her hair was still up in a tight bun, her make-up was stunning, and her clothing hung as though she'd just ironed it.

Conversely, Tony felt and, he was sure, looked like a wreck. He was used to late nights, but there was a big difference between a night that was spent in his workshop and a night that was spent sitting beside the bed of his - well, of Clint. Even though Clint hadn't seen Coulson in weeks, he was still having a lot of nightmares. Last night he'd woken up screeching about Loki and blue light. Tony had been forced to keep the arc reactor covered with his housecoat, less the blue light it gave off scare Clint even more. It stung to know that his presence could hurt Clint just as much, maybe even moreso, than it could comfort Clint.

"Tony," she said, and Tony glanced up at her. "I think we should call it a night."

"What? But Pep, we still have the Anglar contract to go through," Tony protested. He shuffled the papers, disregarding his drawing in favor of laying his hands on the contract. It was a dense, poorly worded, fifty-page sack of crap as far as Tony was concerned, but a few of the Anglar engineers did seem to have a good head on their shoulders. Even if they ended up not accepting the contract, Tony might have to do look into some poaching.

"It can wait," Pepper announced. "I'm tired. You're tired _and_ distracted. Clint or Steve?"

"Clint," Tony admitted, deflating, since there was no point in trying to hide it. Would there ever be a day when Pepper couldn't see straight through him?

Pepper winced and patted his shoulder. "Babies are hard," she said kindly. "And Clint's had it rougher than most. You're good for him."

"Maybe," Tony said. He couldn't help thinking of how he and Steve had burst into Clint's nursery that morning. Clint had jerked awake and screamed even louder when he registered the light of the arc reactor. Just remembering it made Tony's skin crawl. He never wanted to see anyone cringe away from him and cry like that at his approach, but especially not someone who was pretty much his kid right now. 

Thank god for Steve, who'd been only a step behind Tony. He'd taken in the situation and understood immediately and reacted, walking quickly over to Clint and picking Clint up. Then, while Clint's head was buried in Steve's shoulder, Steve had motioned at Tony to close his housecoat. Tony had, jerkily tying it shut just a little too tight, before moving forward to do some awkward comforting of his own. It hadn't worked, not really, and the three of them had ended up watching infomercials for the rest of the night until Tony had to leave for work.

"You are," Pepper said gently, but firmly. "And I think it's time that you went home to him. We can pick this up tomorrow." She stood and reached up to grab the pins that held her hair in place. Her long red hair fell across her shoulders in shining waves and she sighed, rubbing briefly at the back of her head before she ran her fingers through her hair.

"You're letting your hair down. Plans?" Tony asked.

"Never you mind," Pepper said, which was as good as a yes.

Tony grinned at her and she smiled back. They never would have worked out together, but he really did hope that Pepper found someone. He would be lost without her, and she deserved happiness. He said, "Okay, you win. You're right, as always. I'm beat. I'm going to go home and see if I can convince Steve to barbeque for us. Bruce does this amazing sauce for hamburgers."

"You'll have to invite me over sometime."

"You've got a standing invitation," Tony reminded her, standing up. So did Rhodey, for that matter, although Rhodey couldn't take advantage of it nearly as often as Pepper could.

"I'll drop by soon," Pepper promised. "Want to share a car?"

"I actually think I'll take the crow's way home," Tony said. As the old saying went, as the crow flies was by far the quickest way to get home. He grabbed the briefcase armor, lifting it effortlessly, and set it down in the middle of the room. It unfolded and he slid his hands into it, letting the armor rise up around him. Some of the tension melted away once he was fully enclosed, but he knew he wouldn't relax completely until he was back in the tower.

He waved to Pepper and leapt out the open window, trusting that she would close it behind him, and activated the repulsors. Thanks to the armor, he could bypass the evening traffic and fly straight home. It took less than ten minutes to make it back to the tower. Tony couldn't help a quiet sigh of relief as he landed on the edge of the pad and let the 'bots go to work disassembling the armor. He didn't mind working with Pepper, and sometimes he even enjoyed it. But there was nothing quite like coming home after a long day.

“Where is everyone, JARVIS?” he asked, shivering a little as he made his way inside. 

“Prince Odinsson and Dr. Banner are out,” JARVIS replied promptly. “Captain Rogers is out as well, though he indicated he would be back shortly. Agent Romanov and young Clint are watching television in the living room. Agent Romanov has asked me to tell you that she needs to leave soon, so she would appreciate it if you’d make your way to them as soon as possible.”

Steve was out. Tony hadn’t expected that. “Tell her twenty minutes,” he said, already reaching for his tie. He undressed quickly, heaving a sigh as his clothing hit the floor. He didn’t mind wearing suits: as tailored and expensive as they were, they acted as a different kind of armor. But sometimes it was just really nice to get into a pair of sweat pants and one of Steve’s t-shirts (worn to the point of perfect softness and still smelling like Steve’s cologne) and his favorite pair of slippers.

He shuffled into the elevator and went down to the common floor. The doors opened to reveal Clint and Natasha curled up together on the couch. Clint was so entranced by whatever they were watching that he didn’t even notice Tony standing there, but Natasha did. She looked up over Clint’s head and smiled. Tony smiled back, glancing at the television just in time to see the show end.

“Aw, it’s over!” Clint whined. “Why did it have to end? I wanna see moooooooooore!” He threw his hands up in the air and pouted, pushing his bottom lip out.

“Sorry, Svetlyachok,” Natasha said, patting Clint on the arm. “You’ll have to wait until next week to see what happens.”

“Not fair!” Clint said sulkily.

Natasha just smiled and stood up. “Your mother is here, so I have to go now,” she said, which made Tony stick his tongue out at her. She smirked at him. 

“Tony’s here?” Clint sat up and twisted around, eyes wide with surprise.

“Hey munchkin,” Tony said, walking over to the couch. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, the fact that Clint was still calling him by his first name bothered him a bit. For about two weeks there, Clint had called him ‘Mama’. The name had bothered Tony at first, but he’d quickly grown used to it – just in time for Clint to stop. Whether it was because of embarrassment, uncertainty or some other reason, Clint only used ‘Mama’ if he was hurt, sick or otherwise impaired. 

He called Steve ‘Papa’ all the time.

Clint blinked at him, then looked at Natasha. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” Natasha said simply. “See you tomorrow.” She wiggled her fingers and walked back to the elevator. The doors closed and whisked her away.

Tony looked down at Clint. “How about some supper? Did you eat yet?”

“No. Can we have pasta?”

“I think I can swing pasta,” Tony said. He wasn’t a bad cook, regardless of what anyone else said. Maybe he wasn’t on the same level as Bruce, but he was a hell of a lot better than Thor. “Why don’t you watch another show while I make some supper?”

“Okay,” Clint said, eyes already drawn back to the television. Tony smiled at him and went into the kitchen. It was well stocked with just about every kind of pasta imaginable. He picked a box out and then, on second thought, took down a second box. If Steve was coming home, he could pretty much demolish a box and then some on his own.

Tony hummed softly as he worked, cooking the pasta and heating up a jar of pasta sauce and putting some slices of garlic bread in the oven. The kitchen quickly began to smell good and his stomach growled. He set the table with three places and then added the pasta to the sauce, giving the pan a quick stir. He added a little parmesan cheese and decided that the dinner was ready.

“Clint!” he called out, poking his head out of the kitchen. An adorable sight met his eyes.

Clint had evidently grown sleepy waiting for supper, which wasn’t surprising considering their early morning. He’d slumped over until his upper body was horizontal on the couch, feet still planted firmly on the floor. His thumb was tucked into his mouth and he was sucking it in his sleep. His free hand dangled over the side of the couch, nearly trailing on the floor.

“Oh baby,” Tony whispered, moving closer to the touch. Thank god Steve had insisted on Clint wearing a pull-up today. Normally Clint only wore them at night, because he was still having a lot of trouble controlling his bladder whenever he slept. An accident right now would only serve to worsen Clint’s mood.

He sat down on the side of the couch and ran his fingers through Clint’s hair. “Hey you,” he murmured. “It’s time to wake up, sleepy boy.”

“Mmm.” Clint screwed his face up and whined a little, pushing into Tony’s touch. 

“I know, you’re tired,” Tony said sympathetically. “But you need to wake up and eat some supper before you sleep for the night, or you’ll wake up hungry. Come on.” He increased the pressure of his stroking, grazing Clint’s scalp with his nails. Clint’s eyes fluttered open at last.

“Sleepy, Mama,” he mumbled. Tony froze, surprised, as Clint snuggled closer to him, winding his arms around Tony’s waist and pressing his face into Tony’s stomach. He made a sweet, whimpery sound, like a puppy.

Tony’s heart melted. “I know, pumpkin,” he said – or maybe cooed, not that he’d ever admit it. He kept petting Clint’s hair, unsure of how else to continue.

He didn’t know what made him look up a couple of minutes later, but when he did he found that they were being watched. Steve was standing there leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, an unreadable, intent expression on his face. Tony jerked a little and quickly stopped the petting, instead dropping his hand to just rest on Clint’s shoulder. Steve blinked, then suddenly smiled.

“Hey honey,” he said lightly. “What’s this I hear about dinner?”

“You’ve got to get your son up first,” Tony said. He gestured helplessly at where Clint’s arms were locked around his waist and Steve chuckled. The weird moment passed and, by the time they all sat down to supper together, Tony had forgotten all about it.


	2. Chapter 2

They ate supper together – as Tony expected, there was no pasta left over – and then Clint took a shower. Tony sat outside the shower stall and stared at some schematics for Natasha’s new Widow Bites, but his mind was really on the humming coming from inside the shower. Sometimes Clint would consent to a bath, but if he was feeling bigger then he’d insist on a shower. Despite that, Tony thought that Clint really did enjoy baths more. He wondered how he and Steve could coax Clint into taking them more often.

“All done!” Clint said behind the curtain. The shower switched off automatically thanks to JARVIS. 

“Here you go,” Tony said, handing him a towel. Even though both he and Steve had seen Clint naked multiple times, Clint still liked wrapping a towel around his waist after a shower. He waited a moment and then pulled the curtain back. Clint looked up at him, water running down his face.

“Can I have a snack before bed?” he asked.

“You just ate,” Tony said, holding his hand out. He helped Clint to step out of the shower and directed him to sit down on the toilet. Then he picked up a second towel and dropped it over Clint’s head. Clint giggled as Tony began to scrub at his hair, removing most of the water. But the giggles had turned into yawns by the time that Tony was done, and Tony tugged at the towel to reveal the face of a sleepy boy.

“Can I at least wear big boy underwear tonight?” Clint mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“You know the rules,” Tony told him, but gently. Clint got like this sometimes, asking incessant questions. Steve thought it was probably Clint’s way of checking to make sure that nothing had suddenly changed and that the boundaries were all the same. It was a little silly, a little sad, and Tony could hardly fault him: growing up with Howard meant that Tony knew exactly what it was like when adults changed their minds about what was okay from minute to minute. 

Clint made a face but didn’t complain. He dried himself off while Tony got a pull-up out from under the sink; Clint still woke up wet every morning, and Tony didn’t see that changing anytime soon. He knelt down and held the pull-up so that Clint could step into it, then slid it up Clint’s legs and settled it around his hips. Then came the part Clint liked a lot more: his fuzzy purple pajamas.

“Can we go to the zoo tomorrow?” Clint asked as they left the bathroom.

Tony considered the question, wrapping an arm around Clint’s shoulders. It was understandable. Clint didn’t get to leave the tower much. Unless it was a day where Clint was feeling big, there was too much risk that someone was going to snap an incriminating photo – and even then they were taking a risk, because Clint didn’t always know when he was going to start feeling little. 

The last thing they needed was the press getting wind of this situation and hounding Clint endlessly. Or, Tony thought, having this effect the Avengers’s already shaky reputation. It was terrible, but he had to think about things like that. Their jobs were a lot easier when people liked them and wanted to list. As it was, sometimes the public loved them. Sometimes the public hated them. Hawkeye was still a part of the team, so the wrong photo could nudge things pretty firmly into the ‘hate’ category.

“Let me talk to your papa and we’ll see,” Tony said finally, avoiding Clint’s puppy dog eyes. He hated to deny Clint anything, but he and Steve also had to think about Clint’s safety and emotional health. They were, for all intents and purposes, Clint’s guardians rigth now. And it made Tony’s stomach twist to imagine the potential headlines. If Tony was involved, people were going to think it was a sex thing. And that was so far from the truth that it was kind of sickening.

Clint pouted. “That means no. My mom used to do that too. She’d said she’d think about it and then pretend I never mentioned it.”

“We will talk about it,” Tony promised, feeling a twinge of guilt. Maybe he could rent the zoo out for the day? If there was no public and a smaller staff who were willing to sign intense confidentiality clauses…

Steve was waiting for them in Clint’s bedroom. The lights were off and the lights of Clint’s mobile were on. Clint ran across the room to throw himself onto his bed. He grabbed his favorite stuffed toy and snuggled down, looking up at Steve with expectant eyes. Tony could appreciate his excitement: Steve told the best bedtime stories, whereas Tony just read from storybooks. They alternated, and tonight was Steve’s night.

Tony joined them, sitting on the other side of the bed and gently rubbing Clint’s back while Steve started to talk. Tonight's story seemed to about Peggy and the Howling Commandoes. He'd never admitted as much to Steve, but Tony had already heard most of them: between Peggy and Jarvis, he knew more about the tales of the Howling Commandoes than most historians. There ere even some that Tony knew that Steve probably didn't, as they were adventures that had happened after Steve went into the ice.

Clint fell asleep after about twenty minutes, arms wrapped securely around his teddy bear, face peaceful in sleep. It was hard to know how long it would stay that way. Very carefully, Tony slid off the bed and pulled the covers up around him while Steve switched the music on. Though the music was quiet, it covered their departure from the room. Tony eased the door shut behind them, leaving it open a crack just in case Clint called out. JARVIS would warn him and Steve if that happened, but Tony couldn't help himself.

Then he turned to Steve and whispered, "That wasn't too bad. He didn't want to go to bed tonight."

"He never does," Steve whispered back, putting a big hand on Tony's lower back and guiding him away from Clint's room. They walked down the hall together, though Tony paused in front of what had become "his" bedroom. He never used to spend nights on Steve's floor. All of the Avengers had their own floors for a reason: the tower had been redesigned that way on purpose, to give everyone the space they needed. 

But now that Clint's bedroom was on Steve's floor, it was just more convenient if Tony was here too. Steve had never said anything about Tony picking out a bedroom for himself. Tony pushed the door open and idly wondered if at some point he and Steve would _share_ a bedroom. The thought made his stomach flutter as he imagined waking up in Steve's arms every morning. That would be an excellent way to dispell the nightmares that Tony had every night, and, as corny as it sounded, he thought that seeing Steve first thing every morning would make every day a good one. 

"Can you come in for a sec?" he asked, glad that his face was turned away from Steve. “Lights at 50%, J,” he added absently, walking inside.

"Sure, what's up?" Steve said. He followed Tony into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, giving Tony his undivided attention. Tony, who was still standing in the middle of the room, froze. It said a lot about the current state of his mind that the only thing he could think about was giving Steve a show. His clothing wasn't really ideal, since he was wearing the same sweatpants he'd hauled on when he got home.But if he could only have the opportunity to change, slip into something really sexy and sweet - he could make it worth Steve's while -

"Tony?" Steve prompted, and Tony blushed as he realized that he'd let the silence drag on a little too long.

"Clint said he wanted to go to the zoo," he said, privately scolding himself. Now was not the time. "I think he's getting a little bored with being cooped up inside the tower. I just told him you and I would talk about it."

Steve frowned. "I can see where he's coming from. Poor thing. It would be boring having to stay here all the time."

"Hey, I'll have you know my tower is amazing and filled with delight," Tony said, putting his hands on his hips in mock anger.

A smile cracked across Steve's face. "Oh, I know. I can finally plenty to do around here," he said, his voice taking on a husky note that immediately made some of Tony's blood rush south. "But in terms of Clint, he's got a lot of energy when he's in his little headspace. There's only so many times that Natasha can make running around the track sound like fun, and he's still not that great of a swimmer. I think it would be good if we could figure out a way to get him outside, but I don't know about the zoo. There would be a lot of people around."

"I thought about renting out the zoo," Tony admitted, turning away and pulling off his shirt. He heard Steve make a sound behind him, like a sharply drawn-in breath, but when he looked over his shoulder Steve looked no different than normal. Tony blinked at him and then turned away, folding up the shirt. He didn't really care about changing in front of Steve. Showing off the arc reactor was the only thing that made him uncomfortable, which was why he'd turned his back.

"Renting out the zoo?" Steve repeated. "Wouldn't that cost a fortune?"

"Well, yeah. I'd have to make up for their lost revenue or it wouldn't be fair. But it would only be for a couple of hours, and it would mean we'd have privacy so Clint can be as little as he needs to be. I thought I could have one of my lawyers draw up an ironclad confedentiality agreement. That way, if any of the employees saw anything they shouldn't see, it wouldn't matter. And we could hire some bodyguards to keep the press out." Tony shucked off his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers, and bent to pick them up.

He startled badly when, as he straightened back up, arms wrapped around him from behind and pulled him into a hug. Steve's sigh was soft across the back of Tony's neck. "My god you're a good mother. Clint and I are so lucky."

Tony was grateful for the lack of lighting in the room and decided to pretend that Steve wouldn't be able to see his reddening face anyway. "W-what?" he squeaked, flustered.

"I just can't get over the way you'll do anything to put a smile on Clint's face," Steve murmured. He kissed the top of Tony's spine and a flood of tingles shot down Tony's back. "You're the sweetest guy I know, Tony. Every time I look at you, I'm amazed all over again. I don't know where Clint and I would be without you."

"I..." Tony's mouth hung open uselessly. It was like his brain had died.

"I'm so glad that you're in our lives," Steve continued earnestly. "Seeing you and Clint together makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. My good, beautiful darling." He gently turned Tony around and bent down, cupping Tony's right cheek with his hand so as to guide their lips together. It was a slow, deep, _passionate_ kiss that turned Tony's knees to water. He clung to Steve's shoulders, leaning heavily on Steve to remain upright, suddenly feeling like one of those Southern heroines in the shitty erotica novels he and Rhodey used to nab and giggle over. Steve had never kissed him like this.

“S-Steve,” he said breathlessly when their lips parted, still unable to think. But he could definitely feel. Every spot where their bodies touched was burning. 

“My Tony,” Steve rumbled possessively, and Tony gasped. Steve’s hands were huge, practically holding him up off the floor, and he was reminded of just how _strong_ Steve was. It made him feel small and delicate and incredibly sexy. No one else could do this to Captain America.

No one else could do this to Steve Rogers.

Tony temporarily regained the use of his knees and proved it by straightening up and winding his arms around Steve’s neck. He surged upwards and found Steve’s lips again, kissing him greedily. Steve growled and hugged him tighter, kissing him back just as hard. Their fervent kisses made Tony forget about everything but the heat flowing between them and how amazing it felt to have Steve’s fingers tenderly running across his shoulders and down his back like Tony was something valuable.


	3. Chapter 3

The creaking of the door woke Tony from a light sleep. It had taken him quite a while to wind down after the intense make-out session with Steve. They hadn’t done anything more than kiss; Steve’s hands hadn’t even gone below his waist but that was more than enough to get Tony fired up, and he could tell from the lustful gleam in Steve’s eyes that Steve was just as wound up. In the end, it was JARVIS who’d ended things by politely pointing out that Steve had an early meeting at SHIELD tomorrow.

After Steve left, Tony found himself with a problem. Rather than jerk off, he’d opted for taking a cold shower and then curling up in bed with a glass of wine and his tablet to do some work on the armor. But he’d found his thoughts wandering. It was pretty hard not to when a supersoldier’s sizeable package had been rubbing against his thigh not two hours beforehand. He’d drifted off into some pretty happy dreams.

So he could be excused for taking as long as he did to place the tentative footstep on the floor and the shadowy figure in the doorway. A surge of adrenaline had him sitting up, the covers sliding away from his chest. The light of the arc reactor bathed the room and revealed that his early morning visitor was none other than Clint, who flinched at the light and took a half-step backwards, lifting his hand to protect his eyes. Tony stared at Clint in surprise, wondering if he was still dreaming. A quiet sniffle convinced him otherwise.

"Munchkin?" Tony said, breaking the silence. "What's wrong?"

"I... I had a b-bad dr-dream," Clint stuttered. He had his teddy bear tucked under his right arm. He took another step back, shoulders hunching like he was expecting something, and Tony's chest ached for a reason that had nothing to do with the arc reactor. 

Fury had given them the files on all the Avengers a few months ago. Tony had read them cover to cover. Clint's file had alluded to his poor childhood, but hadn't gone into detail. Thanks to a wealth of experience, Tony had been able to read between the lines. He knew for a fact that Clint's father had been extremely physically and emotionally abusive, often beating his children. JARVIS had found an old newspaper article indicating that, when Clint was about eight years old, his father had killed his mother and then committed suicide. After their deaths, Clint and his older brother, Barney, had run away from one of many foster homes when the circus was in town. 

Seeing Clint flinch like he was expecting to be yelled at, or worse, for seeking comfort after a nightmare was horrifying. Tony immediately spoke, keeping his voice soft. "Hey, sweetie, that's okay. You can always come to me if you have a bad dream. That's what I'm here."

Hopeful eyes peeked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course. Come here." Tony pulled the covers back and patted the bed. He had no idea what time it was but figured it was close to dawn judging by how much lighter it was getting in the room.

Clint took a step forward, hesitated, then launched himself across the room. He scrambled up onto the bed and threw himself into Tony's arms, teddy bear clutched securely between them. Tony hugged him tightly, pulling the blankets up around Clint's shivering body. He winced when Clint's cold feet curled around his legs but otherwise made no protest, just concentrated on rubbing Clint's back and murmuring comforting words to him while Clint choked back sobs. It took a long time for Clint to calm down. Whatever he'd dreamt about had obviously upset him deeply.

"Shh. You're safe here, peanut. No one can hurt you here. Your papa and I would stop them," Tony whispered, wishing that Steve was here. But then again, that might have been enough to stop Clint from coming in. All accounts Tony had read indicated that Clint's father was the abusive one, not his mother. If Tony and Steve were taking on those same roles, there was a slight possibility that Clint would be a little more wary around Steve. He'd have to keep an eye on that.

Gradually Clint stopped crying. He'd started sucking on his thumb at some point. Tony gently pushed Clint's hand away from his mouth, having no idea when Clint had last washed his hands or what he might have touched in the meantime. That was one thing he and Steve had figured out pretty quickly: toddlers were into _everything_. It was one of the reasons why they kept a steady supply of pacifiers around the tower now. Some of them had even migrated into Tony's workshop. He didn't even have to look to reach behind him and snag one off of his nightstand.

"Don't wanna," Clint whined, pouting when he saw the pacifier, but he opened his mouth wide at the same time and took the pacifier eagerly enough. He sucked on it hard, eyes half-closed.

"I know you don't wanna," Tony said, smiling softly. He pulled the covers up so the light of the arc reactor was mostly covered and then asked, "Would you like to tell me about your dream?"

Clint shook his head, eyes dark and worried.

"Are you sure? Sometimes talking about things can make you feel better," Tony said. Pepper and Rhodey would laugh themselves silly if they heard him saying that. He ignored the irony of the moment and added, "I bet that would make Teddy feel better, too."

"'eddy?" Clint mumbled around his pacifier, eyes darting down to his teddy bear.

Tony nodded, fixing a serious expression on his face. "I bet you didn't know this, but teddy bears are magical," he whispered. 

Clint's eyes grew round. "Magic?"

"Yup. A good kind of magic," Tony said quickly, because he thought he knew what - or who - Clint's nightmare might've been about. "Teddy bears give the _best_ kind of hugs. They can make your bad feelings go away. But that happens a lot faster when you tell your mommy and daddy what you're worried about or scared over. It's kinda like when you get an owwie and Uncle Bruce sprays medicine on and then puts a band-aid on. The spray hurts, but it feels good afterwards. And your Batman band-aids are the teddy bear hug that makes it all feel better, right?"

Clint stared at him hard, but the bullshit Tony was spouting must've made some kind of sense because he nodded. He took the pacifier from his mouth and whispered, "It was about the bad man. He came into my room. He said that our plans weren't finished and that he was gonna take me 'way again. He had his staff. It was real cold." His lower lip trembled.

Loki. Just like Tony suspected. He held back a sigh and ran his hands through Clint's hair. "Listen to me, baby. That bad man is never going to touch you again, okay? He's locked up far away from here."

"How do you know?" Clint asked earnestly, trembling a little. "Maybe he got free. Maybe he's on his way here and he's gonna hurt me."

"That won't happen, I promise." Tony pulled Clint into another hug. He hated feeling this helpless; he didn't like that this was a problem he couldn't fix. Loki had really done a number on Clint. He started to wonder if maybe he and Steve should be looking for a therapist of some kind. Natasha had told them that age play was Clint's favorite coping mechanism, and they were totally willing to indulge that. But there might be damage here that required the skills of someone more educated in dealing with trauma than the Avengers. It was something he'd have to talk to Steve and Natasha about.

"But how do you _know_?" Clint asked again, more urgently this time.

"I guess I don't. But you know who would?"

Clint shook his head.

"Uncle Thor. Why don't you and I go talk to him?" Tony suggested. Thor was usually an early riser unless he'd been out with Jane, and he was pretty sure that Jane and Darcy were still in Paris attending some sort of symposium.

"Will he be mad?" Clint asked in a tiny voice.

"Of course not. Uncle Thor loves it when we come to visit. You can even bring Teddy," Tony said.

"Okay," Clint said quickly, proving that he really did want to go. He slid the pacifier back into his mouth and started to suck furiously again.

"Okay," Tony said. He pushed the covers back and rolled out of bed, reaching for the nearest robe. His face grew a little hot when he realized it was the purple silk robe that Pepper had left behind once. It had been a Christmas gift from her sister that she didn't care for, both because of the color and because it was at least two sizes too big. Tony, always a sucker for fabrics that felt amazing against his bare skin, had promptly absconded with it and declared the robe his. It had quickly become his favorite robe, though he rarely wore it in front of other people for obvious reasons.

He considered searching for another robe, but Clint was looking so forlorn that he decided against it. He slid on the purple silk robe, tied it shut quickly, and reached out a hand. Clint took it and slid out of the bed, free arm wrapped securely around his teddy bear. Tony slipped his feet into his white slippers and they padded out of the room. After a quick stop in Clint's room to find his slippers, they walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Tony froze when he realized that it was actually later than he'd realized and that Steve was just finishing up a bowl of cereal.

Steve blinked at them, clearly surprised, but it just as quickly changed to concern when he took in the tear tracks on Clint's face. "What's wrong?"

"Someone had a nightmare," Tony said, mouthing the word 'Loki' at Steve. 

“A nightmare?” Steve repeated. Something in his face went a little dark when Tony mentioned Loki, but his expression smoothed away into sympathy when he looked at Clint. He got up from the table and walked over to them, scooping Clint up and giving him a big hug. Clint threw his arms around Steve’s neck and hugged him back just as hard. Steve looked at Tony, at once worried and uncertain. Tony knew exactly how he felt.

"We're going to see Uncle Thor,” he said, hoping to put Steve at ease. “We’re going to make sure that Uncle Thor hasn’t heard anything differently from Asgard.” It was a little silly – of course Thor would’ve told them if Loki had escaped. But if it would put Clint at ease, it was worth it.

"I think that's a great idea. I really wish I could join you, but I'm supposed to meet Fury in fifteen minutes,” Steve said. 

“Fury dumb,” Clint grumbled behind his pacifier. Steve and Tony both broke out into laughter.

“I don’t disagree, honey,” Steve said, still chuckling. He set Clint down and returned to the table to grab his bowl. He rinsed it out and set in the sink, then came back over to them. He dropped a kiss on top of Clint’s head and gave him another hug, then quickly ruffled his teddy bear’s head.

“Clint’s got Fury pegged,” Tony agreed, amused and suspecting that Clint was still holding a grudge against Fury for having kicked him off the team. Fury really hadn’t had much of a choice considering Clint’s state of mind, but Clint didn’t seem to agree. Because Tony thought it was hilarious, and he couldn’t wait to see Fury’s reaction next time he saw Clint, he didn’t bother to scold Clint.

Steve just smiled, leaning over Clint to press a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. “Nice robe,” he whispered against Tony’s lips, too low for Clint to hear, and Tony immediately forgot all about Fury as he blushed deeply. Steve grinned at him, winked and ran a lingering hand down Tony’s silk-covered arm, and then hurried out of the room.

Steve Rogers was a little shit, Tony thought furiously. Noticing Clint’s curious look, he tried to regain his composure. “Come on, kiddo. Uncle Thor should definitely be up by now. I bet he’s working out in the gym.”


	4. Chapter 4

JARVIS must have alerted Thor to their approach, because the door swung open before Tony had the chance to knock. Thor was just like Steve: he was, in every sense of the word, a morning person, which meant he’d already showered and dressed for the day even though it was just past 6:00am. This, more than anything, served to convince Tony that he lived with people who were insane. Who _willingly_ got up at this hour?

“Good morning,” Thor said cheerfully. There was a towel still draped around his shoulders, soaking up the wetness from his hair. “To what do I owe a visit from my good friends on this lovely morning?”

“Clint has a question that only you can answer,” Tony explained, wrapping an arm around Clint’s shoulders and rubbing his arm comfortingly. Sometimes Clint could still be shy around Steve and Tony, so he had a lot of trouble around Bruce, Thor and sometimes even Natasha. And sure enough Clint remained stubbornly silent, sucking on his pacifier, so Tony figured it was up to him.

“Of course. Please come in,” Thor said, stepping back and pulling the door open. 

When Tony had built the floors with the Avengers in mind, he’d kept the decorations very minimal. He’d wanted the team to feel free to decorate however they wanted. He’d expected Thor’s tastes to run towards opulent and costly, but surprisingly Thor had stuck with the original design Tony had given him. There were new pictures on the walls, mostly of the team and Thor’s friends, and he saw new signs of Jane and Darcy, but other than that the floor just looked more homey and lived-in than anything.

“Coffee?” Thor inquired, leading them into the living room. Tony had to stop himself from blurting out a desperate ‘god yes’; he had a small, misguided hope that he might still be able to go back to bed for a couple of hours after this. His eyes were burning and he had the beginnings of a headache that suggested he’d be sorry if he didn’t. 

“No, I’m good,” Tony said instead, taking a seat on the couch with Clint beside him. Thor sat in a recliner just beside Tony, looking at them with open concern.

“What brings you here, little archer?” Thor asked. His voice was very gentle and Clint sniffled in response, huddling closer to Tony. Tony sighed and ran a hand through Clint’s hair, then smiled weakly at Thor.

“Clint just wanted to make sure that Loki hasn’t escaped from Asgard,” he said bluntly. There was really no way to mince words, but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of guilt when Thor winced at the question. Loki was still something of a sore spot for Thor, and he probably always would be. Tony had listened to him talk about Loki a few times, usually when Thor was drunk and couldn’t hold back. The Loki that Thor talked about with such fondness was a far cry from the murderous, would-be enslaver that had shown up on Earth.

“I see,” Thor murmured. “I can set your fears at rest. I spoke to Heimdell just two nights past and he reassured me that nothing had changed on Asgard. Loki is still imprisoned.”

Clint relaxed immediately, a tearful sob slipping out of him. Tony shushed him, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of Clint’s head. He looked back at Thor, whose expression was filled with a mixture of pity and compassion. The two of them shared a look, and then Thor nodded at them. He stood and walked out of the room. Clint made another, tinier sound and Tony shushed him again, wondering what Thor was up to.

Thor was only gone for a couple of minutes before he returned with something that looked like a plasma globe. It was small enough that Tony could’ve held it comfortably in the palm of one hand, about the size of a baseball, and made from clear glass. Contained inside the globe was a gold mist of some kind. Occasionally a bolt of what appeared to be miniature lightening would split through the mist and crash against the smooth side of the glass, winking out and leaving the mist it had touched stark white. Slowly, the mist would fade back to gold and the whole process would begin again – though there didn’t seem to be any discernible pattern to the lightening.

He moved over to them and knelt in front of Clint with a grace that Tony envied, holding the globe up. Clint sat up slowly, eyes locked onto the globe like a captivated cat watching a bird out the window. Thor smiled, twisting the globe so that they could see it from all directions, and then held it out. Clint hesitated, glancing at Tony, who gave him an encouraging nod. It had taken a while, but he trusted Thor enough to know when something was safe for someone in the headspace of a child. 

Clint took the globe in both his hands and gasped softly. His pacifier fell from his mouth, and it was only Tony’s quick grab that kept it from hitting the floor. They really needed to get Clint some of those pacifier clips, Tony thought ruefully. Clint would probably protest and whine about the babyish clips, but it would mean he had a pacifier with him at all times and – better yet – they wouldn’t be finding pacifiers all over the floor.

“It’s warm,” Clint whispered, sounding awed. “But it doesn’t hurt?” He looked up at Thor for a second before returning his gaze to the globe, as though he couldn’t bear to look away for long.

“It’s magic. My mother made it for me,” Thor said with a smile. Tony looked at him sharply.

“What does it do?” Clint asked.

“It will tell me if something is wrong on Asgard. If something happened and my presence was needed, the mist inside the globe would turn black and the lightening would stop,” Thor explained. “And I would know that I need to return. So long as the mist is gold, you can have confidence that Loki has not escaped. My father promised me that I would be summoned _immediately_ if that were to occur.”

“Cool,” Clint said. He held the globe for a moment longer before he held it back out to Thor. But Thor just shook his head and wrapped Clint’s hands more firmly around the globe.

“No. You should keep it.”

“But… don’t you need it?” Clint said, looking worried.

“Aye, but it will be simple for my mother to create a new one. In fact, she may have already.” Thor winked at him. “When she gave me this one, she said something about keeping a spare just in case I got overzealous and smashed this one. Of course, I have _no idea_ what she could be talking about.” His expression changed to one of innocence as Clint giggled. Even Tony had to smile.

“Thank you,” Clint whispered, hugging the globe to his chest alongside his teddy bear. Thor smiled at him, patting Clint on the head.

“It’s nothing, my friend. Consider it my pleasure,” Thor said warmly, standing up. “Now, could I interest either of you in some breakfast? Darcy recently taught me how to make the toast of the French.”

“Yes!” Clint yelped, leaping up. He set the globe and his teddy bear on the coffee table very carefully, then grinned excitedly at Thor. Thor laughed and took Clint’s hand to lead him into the kitchen. Tony started to get up to follow them, then paused and looked back at the globe.

Thor really was one of the kindest people that Tony knew. It was easy for him to come off as a spoiled prince to people who didn’t know him well, but beyond the pampered exterior lay the heart of a gentle and loyal man. He picked the globe up, surprised to find that it was heavier than he would have expected. As Clint had said, it was warm to the touch. Not hot, but a little warmer than body heat.

He was glad he’d brought Clint here. They could buy a little stand and put the globe right on Clint’s nightstand. Not only would it function as another source of (not blue) light, it would be something solid and reassuring that Clint could look at as soon as he woke up from a nightmare. Tony’s and Steve’s comfort was all well and good, but this was something concrete. 

It was also kind of mesmerizing. He still couldn’t find a pattern to the lightening leaping within the glass; sometimes it was a single bolt and sometimes it was a fork or even three-pronged strands. He watched, distantly listening to Clint and Thor laughing together in the kitchen, and barely realized his eyes were growing increasingly heavy until what was meant to be a slow blink left them closed.

The sound of Steve’s low voice left him disoriented; it was only then that Tony realized he’d fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and peered fuzzily around the room, finally spotting Steve and Thor near the door. Clint was curled up beside Tony on the couch, his head in Tony’s lap. One arm was wrapped around Tony’s waist and the other was tucked around his teddy bear. The globe was back on the coffee table in clear view. The light coming in through the windows told Tony it was either late morning or early afternoon.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, seconds before an upside down kiss was dropped onto Tony’s mouth. “Thor said you’ve been napping here all morning.”

“I guess I fell asleep,” Tony mumbled, rubbing his eyes. The room came into better focus when he dropped his hands, including Steve’s affectionate blue eyes. Tony’s heart did that familiar stutter. 

“You were up early with Clint. You needed it,” Steve said softly. “You hungry?”

Tony thought about it before nodding. “Yeah, I am actually.” He’d missed out on Thor’s French toast. “How long has Clint been out for?”

“Thor says only about twenty minutes. I’ll carry him back to his bed and then you and I can have lunch together before he wakes up.” Steve moved around the couch. He was getting a lot better at figuring out how to pick Clint up without waking the kid, gently sliding his hands under Clint’s arms and hefting him up. Clint went without stirring, head falling heavily onto Steve’s shoulder, suckling in his sleep at his pacifier.

Tony was slower to stand, still feeling like he was half-asleep. He picked up the globe and Clint’s teddy bear and smiled sheepishly at Thor. “Sorry for foisting Clint off on you. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. And thanks for this.” He motioned to the globe. “Clint will sleep a lot better.”

“It was no problem, my friends. I enjoy spending time with Clint, and you need only let me know of anything else that will help,” Thor said. “Anytime you need me to baby-sit, just let me know.”

Baby-sit. God that was weird. Tony just nodded. “Thanks, we will.” He muffled a yawn and shuffled after Steve. He felt slightly more awake by the time they got down to their own floor and followed Steve into Clint’s room. Steve put Clint into bed and tucked the teddy bear in with him, while Tony set the globe on the nightstand and made sure it wouldn’t roll off. He switched on Clint’s mobile for good measure, hoping that for once Clint would have a peaceful nap.

His stomach was rumbling by the time they slipped out of Clint’s room, partially closing the door behind them. Tony was wondering what Steve intended to do for lunch when he stopped short, stunned. The kitchen table was set up for a romantic date right out of the movies: a checkered tablecloth with a bouquet of fresh flowers right in the middle, with lit candles on either side and a bottle of Tony’s favorite wine. Two plates had been set out with burgers from Tony’s favorite restaurant. 

“Surprise,” Steve said from behind him.

“Why Mr. Rogers,” Tony said, swallowing hard. He was oddly touched. “How sneaky.”

“I wanted to treat my favorite fella to lunch,” Steve said, pulling Tony into a hug. He smiled mischievously and added, “The lack of a baby interrupting us is just a bonus.”

“He hates it when you call him that,” Tony said absently, walking closer to the table. There was no real admonition behind his words: Clint didn’t hate it as much as he pretended to. He reached out and touched one of the flowers. They were very colorful, pinks and blues and purples and yellows, with a wonderfully fragrant scent. He couldn’t resist leaning in close to inhale, closing his eyes for a second. The sweetly spicy smell took him straight back to a childhood spent helping Ana Jarvis in the gardens.

Realizing that Steve was watching him, he hastily straightened up again, flushing. “I can’t believe you bought me flowers,” he said, somewhat shyly. 

“You like flowers,” Steve said simply. “I want you to have whatever you want, Tony.”

Steve was going to be the death of him. Tony looked away, momentarily overwhelmed by the emotions rolling through him, and managed a shaky smile. “Right now, I want to have this delicious looking food before our kid wakes up.”

Steve’s laugh was soft and knowing. “I think we can do that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some light smut at the end. If you don't want to read that part, skip everything after Steve joins Tony in the bath.

“So, um…”

The sound of Steve’s nervous huff drew Tony’s attention like a live wire. He lifted his eyes and then his head, genuinely curious. There wasn’t much that could make Steve squirm. “What’s up?”

“Natasha wants to have a sleepover with Clint tonight,” Steve said. 

“Yeah? She mentioned that to me a few weeks ago,” Tony said. Natasha had tried to make it sound like she was doing it purely to give Steve and Tony time alone. Tony knew better. That may have been part of it, but it certainly wasn’t the whole reason. It was cute how much she was looking forward to the sleepover.

“I was wondering if you might want to… you know.” Steve cleared his throat. “Get sexy with me.”

It was so awkward that it was endearing, and hearing Steve say ‘sexy’ was enough to make Tony’s pulse quicken. They hadn’t really done anything of that nature yet; hands had wandered _a lot_ , but it was always over clothing. What Tony had felt beneath Steve’s clothes was more than enough to give him fodder for some spectacular fantasies. The real thing had his mouth watering.

“Yes,” Tony said, voice gone husky. “I would… yes.”

Steve grinned. “Great. I have to take Clint up to Natasha’s, but there’s a surprise for you in the bathroom.” He leaned over and gave Tony a quick kiss that turned into something a low slower, their lips moving together.

“Ewww, that’s my mommy,” Clint whined. Steve jumped as though struck by lightening and jerked away in surprise. Tony jumped too, nearly sending his tablet onto the floor. Clint shoved his way between them and sat in Tony’s lap, winding his arms around Tony’s shoulder with a pout.

“Sorry, Clint,” Steve said, recovering first. “But as the daddy, I get to kiss Mommy whenever I want.” There was a sparkle in his eyes that flared brighter when he looked at the two of them.

Clint’s scowl deepened. “But he’s _my_ mommy.”

They were essentially play fighting over him, and it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. Tony was momentarily speechless, that soft, sweet feeling that rushed through him whenever Clint referred to him as his mother making a reappearance. He didn’t know why that feeling was so strong, or why it affected him so deeply – or why he liked it so much. It would have been scary, except nothing that felt like _this_ could have been a threat.

Feeling someone’s eyes on him, he glanced up and saw Steve watching him again. The look on Steve’s face suggested that he liked what he saw. A lot. Tony flushed a little and finally managed to pull himself together. He wrapped his arms around Clint and gave the kid a hug. Clint immediately stopped glaring at Steve in favor of cuddling into Tony like a needy kitten.

“You’ll just have to share me,” Tony said, pressing a kiss to Clint’s head.

“But I don’t like sharing,” Clint said earnestly. Steve chuckled and Tony had to grin.

“Sorry, munchkin, sometimes it’s not optional. Now, you’re sure you have everything you need to go to Aunt Tasha’s? Did you pack your globe? Your teddy bear? Your pull-ups?”

Clint hesitated a beat too long before he said, “Yes.”

Steve and Tony exchanged a look. Then Steve grabbed Clint’s bag and swiftly sorted through it. Clint, as befitting any toddler left to pack their own bag at their insistence, had packed some toys and not much else. They ended up walking back to Clint’s room and repacking the bag, while Clint threw a hissy fit about having to take a pull-up with him. The alternative, that he would wake up with wet sheets in Natasha’s bedroom, was something he didn’t want to hear about.

Needless to say, by the time Steve was leading a sulky Clint out the door, Tony had long since lost any sexy feelings. He was feeling a lot more frazzled and wondering how real parents did this every single day of their lives. Clint may have had an extra complication because his headspace was unsteady – sometimes he really did act like a baby, but sometimes he could act as old as three or four – but he couldn’t imagine that made much difference. Parenting was _hard_ and he was exhausted.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked towards the bathroom attached to his room, wondering what kind of surprise Steve could’ve left. His eyes widened as he reached the door and he stopped for a moment, just staring. Steve had run a bath, but not just any bath: there were at least three dozen candles around the bathtub, filling the air with a soothing lavender fragrance. The bath water was full of pink-tinted bubbles and, when he moved closer, had been colored pale purple, probably from a bath bomb. A huge, plush towel and a book from one of Tony’s favorite authors was waiting on the stand beside the tub. 

How had he known? That was the prevailing thought as Tony began to undress, sliding his jeans and boxers down and removing his t-shirt. Most people thought Tony was afraid of water after Afghanistan. And it was true that Tony couldn’t bear to have any water over his head; he still had difficulty shampooing his hair on some days. But he’d always found baths comforting, and that hadn’t changed: so long as it was with hot, scented water, which was about as opposite the frigid, filthy water he’d been waterboarded with as you could get.

He slid his foot into the water, sucking in a breath at the heat. All of the bathtubs in the tower came with heaters installed inside the ceramic for the purposes of keeping bath water hot. Steve had obviously figured out how to use them, or maybe JARVIS had shown him – that was more likely, as the water was the exact temperature that Tony preferred. He liked his baths hot.

The bubbles popped around him as he eased his way into the water, reclining back against a bath pillow he didn’t recognize but which was very comfortable and giving against his spine and shoulders. Tony rolled his head back, inhaling the scent of lavender and – now that he was immersed – the subtler notes of honey and orange. He hadn’t even realized how tense he was feeling until now, when the water was turning his body into a relaxed mush.

An indefinable amount of time later, Steve poked his head into the bathroom. His eyes went a little dark as he took in the sight of Tony, mostly hidden by the bubbles but with enough skin on show to be interesting. He said, “Clint’s all good. I told Natasha to make sure he wears a pull-up. I’m ready anytime you are, but take your time.”

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Tony promised. Just to tease, he lifted a leg out of the water, toes pointed towards the ceiling. It crossed his mind briefly that the effect would’ve been more poignant if his toenails were painted, but Steve didn’t seem to agree: he visibly swallowed, watching the rivulets of water run down Tony’s muscled calf and thigh, and it looked like his pants were getting a little tighter. Tony smiled. 

“Right,” Steve said, licking his lips. “I’ll just –” He jerked his head towards the door.

“Or,” Tony said, somewhat shyly, “You can join me if you want.” He didn’t look at Steve as he made the offer. He might have had a reputation as a playboy, but what people didn’t understand was the casual sex was _easy_. Who cared what a one-night stand thought if you never saw them again? Conversely, Steve meant everything.

The sound of clothing hitting the floor was Tony’s answer. He glanced up instinctively and was immediately riveted by the sight of Steve’s bare chest. His gaze traveled down as Steve dropped his pants and boxers, and he found that what they said about the serum, and what he’d felt during their groping sessions, was all true. Steve was very generously endowed in all departments. 

Steve padded over to the tub and climbed in. Like all the tubs in the tower it was easily large enough to accommodate two grown men, but it still required some finagling. Tony couldn’t help snickering when Steve went to lean back and accidentally hit the faucet, switched it on and yelped at the burst of cold water on his bare skin; he finally took pity, slid forward and let Steve move behind him, then leaned back. Steve’s arms slid around his waist.

“Mm, this is nice,” Steve said into his ear. “I’ve never been a big fan of this, but I can see why you like it.”

“It’s relaxing,” Tony said.

“Well, actually what I’m enjoying is the wet, naked man, but the bath is okay too.”

“Steve,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. What a line.

Steve chuckled and kissed Tony’s neck, lips lingering. “Tony, can I… can I put my fingers in you? Just my fingers,” he added when Tony tensed a little. “I just want to know how you feel.”

“Okay,” Tony whispered. His heart thudded as Steve’s ankles slid beneath his and slowly drew Tony’s legs apart. He was still hidden by the bubbles, but he could feel Steve’s fingers on his ribs like a brand.

“Let me just –” Steve lifted a dripping arm and grabbed one of the small packages lining the tub. Tony’s eyebrows shot up when he recognized a popular brand of lube. Had Steve left that there purposely? Had he been hoping that Tony would issue an invitation?

He stayed quiet and still as Steve coated his fingers with lube and dipped them back into the water. The first touch against his ass made Tony stiffen, but – after another kiss to his neck – he relaxed again and willingly bent his knees, shifting his ass forward a bit for easier access. Steve’s index finger found its target with unerring accuracy, though he spent several minutes just teasing and rubbing at Tony’s entrance without actually pushing inside. Tony was squirming with impatience by the time the first finger slowly breached him.

Oh, he thought, a little stunned. Just… oh.

Steve shivered against him in spite of the heat of the bath. “Tony,” he whispered, pressing more kisses to Tony’s neck. The kisses trailed up to Tony’s ears and then back down again as he slowly rocked his finger in and out. Tony lost count of how many times Steve did that, and he jolted with a surprised cry when Steve suddenly slid another finger inside.

“Don’t stop,” he hissed when he felt Steve hesitate. He didn’t bottom very often: when he was younger, too many people had ‘conquered’ Tony Stark and then shared their stories with anyone who would listen. Tony had learned fast that, regardless of whether he was with a man or a woman, it was better and easier to be the one who was doing the fucking. So he had forgotten how good it could feel to have something stretching him open, teasing him, making him ache inside for more.

“Not stopping. Just want more lube,” Steve promised. His fingers slipped out and Tony bit his lip before he could whine in protest, watching as Steve coated his fingers with what was probably half the bottle. It was way too much and Tony squirmed again when Steve’s palm made contact with his taint and ass; it was so wet and slippery, coating his skin and hole and oozing out of him when Steve pumped a couple of fingers in and out of him.

“Tony.” Steve sounded breathless. “Baby, you’re so _wet_.”

“Wet for you,” Tony croaked, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just for you, Steve, god. Please.” Why was Steve having this effect on him? This was so vanilla compared to what Tony was used to, yet he felt ready to burst.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. You’re so hot inside. I just want to…” Steve exhaled raggedly and slipped three fingers in. Tony arched against him as Steve spread his fingers out, spreading him too. “Come on, Tony. I wanna see you make yourself come. For me, okay?”

Helplessly, Tony wrapped shaking fingers around himself. He trembled as he began to stroke himself off, because it was almost _too_ good but he there was no way he could stop. Steve was crooning in his ear, urging him onwards, telling him how pretty he was, how gorgeous he’d be when he finally came, and all Tony could do was hold his breath and obey.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve's arms were wound snugly around Tony's waist, holding him securely in place. Tony didn't mind. He rested his head against Steve's shoulder, lazily watching the bubbles pop out of existence. They were pretty much gone now, which wasn't a surprise considering how long he and Steve had been in the tub. After Steve had made him come, Tony had brought Steve off with just his hand. He'd wanted to do more, maybe a blowjob, but Steve had just grabbed his hand and pulled it down with a look of such desperation that Tony had foregone any other thoughts and, instead, memorized how beautiful Steve looked when he orgasmed.

They'd spent the next little while just relaxing, enjoying the warm water and the feel of each other. It had been ages since Tony felt this relaxed. He and Pepper had never actually made it to the sex part. And the last few people he'd fucked before Pepper had been one night stands who hadn't even stayed the night. They usually left right after sex and then Tony went on to bed all by himself. And that had been... god. It had been months. Before the Battle of New York. Steve and Clint had occupied all of Tony's thoughts since then. 

It had been worth the wait. The cliché thought was a little embarrassing, but it was true. For their first time together, Steve had known how to push a lot of Tony's buttons. He remembered the slightly commanding tone that Steve had taken on when he was complimenting Tony, and urging him to come, and shivered. There were people he'd dated for _months_ when he was younger who hadn't given him a fifth of the pleasure that Steve had wrung out of him so quickly. He was pretty sure that Steve was going to fuck his brains out the first time they made it that far.

"Are you cold?" Steve asked, breaking the pleasant silence. He sounded so sweetly concerned.

"A little," Tony lied. The water was still perfectly warm, but the bath was beginning to lose its appeal. "Are you ready to get out?"

"Sure. You know, I haven't taken a bath since I came out of the ice," Steve said thoughtfully. "I thought that this much water might bother me. I didn't really see what other people liked so much. But now I'm starting to get it."

"I thought it was the wet, naked man you liked so much," Tony teased, regretfully pulling himself out of Steve's arms. He stretched, feeling the slight burn of muscles that hadn't been used that way for a while. It was a nice feeling that came with a deep-seated lassitude. He'd almost forgotten how good sex could make him feel.

Steve chuckled. "Well, that too." He pinched Tony's ass, earning a yelp.

Tony swatted Steve's hand away and stood. Even though he was facing away from Steve, he could feel Steve's eyes glued to his back and smiled to himself. Between what Tony did in the workshop on a regular basis and the work he did as an Avenger, he was in much better shape than most people realized. He was no Captain America or Thor, of course, but he knew for a fact that Steve was looking at a well-muscled back, a rounded ass that more than one person had recognized as Tony's best asset, and defined thighs and calves. He just hoped that Steve liked what he was seeing.

With care, he lifted one dripping leg and then the other to get out of the tub and grabbed a towel. Before turning to face Steve, he securely wrapped it around his upper body. Only then did he turn, and the the burning look in Steve's eyes took his breath away. Okay, Steve _definitely_ liked the back of him. It remained to be seen what Steve would think of the front. The arc reactor was like a small crack in the in some otherwise smooth glass. Not only did most people get grossed out when they saw visual proof that the arc reactor was set deep into Tony's body, the scar tissue around the device was not attractive. Tony had treated the scars with vitamin E on the advice of his doctor, and that had helped some - but the reality was that he would always have them.

And then there was the fact that Steve was literally perfect. Tony's mouth went dry as Steve stood up. It should've been impossible, but somehow Steve looked even better with water running down all of that glorious golden skin. His eyes focused on a drop of water that was slowly sliding down Steve's bicep. Tony wanted nothing more in that moment than to bend forward and follow that same path with his tongue. He licked his lips at the thought and slowly lifted his eyes to Steve's face, seeing the smile that rested there.

"Could you hand me a towel?" Steve asked, looking like he was enjoying the attention. He reached out a hand and Tony silently passed him a towel. The tub automatically began to empty itself as soon as Steve stepped out of it. As soon as they left the room, JARVIS would dispense a robot to come clean the tub so that it would be ready for the next bath.

Tearing his eyes away from the flexing of Steve's muscles, Tony grabbed another towel and began drying himself off. His hair was only a little damp from all the splashing that they'd been doing. He'd bent over and was drying his lower legs and feet when Steve stepped up behind him and rested a hand on Tony's spine. Tony straightened, intending to making another teasing comment, but stopped when he realized that Steve was holding a white box. It was roughly the width of a shoe box, but had no identifying logos on it. 

"What's this?" Tony said, taking the box when Steve held it out to him.

The tips of Steve's ears colored slightly. "I bought this for you. I saw it when I was out on my run yesterday and thought it would look really nice on you."

"You bought me a gift?" Tony said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. He lifted the top off the box, shocked when he saw what was inside. It was another robe, this one a deep wine red in color. He lifted it out of the box and gasped at the feeling of the fabric; it felt like glossy water flowing across his fingertips. He held it up, realizing that this one was cut much shorter than the purple one. His glance fell on the label and he gasped. It stated that the robe was made from vicuña wool. Steve had to have paid a _fortune_ for this.

"Do you like it?" Steve asked when the silence had dragged on.

"Steve, this is..." Tony looked up at him, speechless. "This is too much!" He'd bought Pepper a scarf made from vicuña wool. It had cost him over $6,000. And that was just a scarf.

For some reason, that made Steve smiled. "Honey, no. It's not enough. For everything you do, it'll never be enough. I did some research and vicuña wool is one of the lightest and warmest fabrics out there. I want you to be warm." His expression turned bleak for a moment, cutting off Tony's protests before he even had a chance to start. Of course Steve wanted the people he cared about to be warm. He knew what it was like to freeze to death.

"I... thank you," Tony whispered, still stunned to his core. No one had ever spent this much money on a single gift for him. But it was more than that: Steve had researched the gift. He'd spent time on picking this out. That meant more than anything.

"You're welcome," Steve said, smiling again. "I want to see what it looks like on. I'll wait for you in the bedroom." 

He was gone before Tony realized that Steve understood his reluctance to show off his chest, specifically the arc reactor. Then Tony snorted. Of course Steve understood. The serum may have changed Steve into the pinnacle of human perfection, but before that Steve had been a skinny, asthmatic beanpole. Steve probably remembered all too well what it was like to have to show people your body when there were parts of it that you were ashamed of. That was something you could never forget no matter how hard you tried.

He started to set the box down and paused when he noticed that there was more inside. Curious, he reached in and lifted out a pair of slippers. They looked more like women's flipflops than men's slippers, wine red in color with incredibly plush soles. He set them on the ground and slid his feet into them, biting bac k a groan. They felt like heaven on his feet. He could just imagine how sinful they'd feel after a whole day of walking around in his lifts: like a cloud. They also fit perfectly, which meant Steve had to have asked JARVIS what size shoe he wore. He looked down at them and wiggled his toes, sighing happily.

The last thing in the box was - oh.

Tony's face flushed as he lifted out a pair of underwear. They were silky and black, with an inch-wide wine red lace panel on either side over the thighs. They were definitely made for men, with space in front for a dick. He ran his fingers over the lace. It was soft to the touch, which meant he wouldn't have to worry about it being itchy or uncomfortable. Steve had definitely chosen these with Tony's comfort in mind - though that certainly didn't explain _why_ Steve had bought them. Tony had never worn panties in his life. Howard would be spinning in his grave if he knew; the thought of his father's horrified face made Tony snort. He was positive that he'd never given Steve any indication that he wanted to wear panties.

He'd thought about it once or twice over the course of his life. Women's underwear was way more interesting than men's, with a variety of cuts and colors and fabric choices. But it was never more than an idle curiosity. When you lived life in the limelight the way that Tony did, there were some lines that you couldn't risk crossing. Wearing panties was one of them. People would freak out over a sex tape that showed Tony in an orgy with five women and three other men, but they'd get over it. Panties? That was something entirely different. It was too far, opening doors to things that Tony had never dared to let himself think about.

But if Steve wanted him to wear them... he swallowed hard and dropped the towel. It pooled around his feet as he bent down and slid his feet into the panties. He drew them slowly up his thighs, sucking in a sharp breath as the silk cupped his dick for the first time. It felt amazing. He let the waistband slid into place around his hips and carefully rearranged his dick until everything felt right. Only then did he risk take a look into the mirror. His chest tightened with a excitement and yearning as he studied the panties. They looked phenomenal, emphasizing his hips and the curve of his ass. Steve had chosen well. 

And Tony... Tony's smile slowly slid from his face. The longer he looked in the mirror, the sillier he started to feel. What the hell was he doing wearing panties? He didn't look sexy. He looked stupid. He couldn't wear these. It was wrong. All wrong. His skin burning with shame, he quickly shucked them off, feeling like he'd done something wrong just by putting them on - like a teenager who'd been drinking or doing pot when their parents were about to walk in. He dropped them back in the box and quickly pulled the robe on, tying it shut over his bare skin. 

His face still felt hot when he walked out to the bedroom to join Steve, who had wine, cheese and fruit waiting for him. Tony tried to smile, but when he joined Steve on the bed and the robe shifted just enough that it became evident he was naked underneath, he couldn't help feeling like he was letting Steve down in some way. Steve never said a word about it, and indeed acted like there was nothing wrong, but the awful feeling of shame and something he couldn't put a name to, but which felt an awful lot like he needed another bath, plagued Tony well into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

The rhythm of Steve’s chest moving woke Tony up the next morning. He blinked slowly, realizing that sunlight was pooling through a crack in the curtains and that, at some point through the night, he and Steve had become fully entertwined. One of Steve’s arms was wrapped around Tony, holding Tony securely against him, with a hand draped possessively over Tony’s bare hip.

Tony’s head was resting on Steve’s pecs. He had one arm across Steve’s waist and the other tucked somewhere between them. One of his legs was thrown across both of Steve’s. He could feel Steve’s breath against the top of his head every time Steve exhaled. Had it been anyone else, Tony’s weight would’ve made their arm fall asleep a long time ago: apparently, that wasn’t a concern for a supersoldier.

It was a scene so domestic that Tony had to stop himself from ruining it by jumping out of the bed. He forced himself to remain still and breathe through the initial surge of disbelief mingled with panic. Slowly, those feelings gave way to the realization that it was actually really _nice_ to wake up with Steve like this. Feeling warm and protected and safe was not an experience that Tony got to indulge in very often. He figured he should make the most of it until Steve woke up.

He lifted his head, looking up at Steve’s face. In sleep, Steve looked like he was at peace. His lashes were surprisingly dark against his tanned skin, lips parted slightly as he breathed. Strands of blond hair fell across his forehead; Tony’s fingers itched to smooth the wayward strands back, as he knew Steve hated having his hair in his face. He quelled the urge, knowing that Steve would probably wake up as soon as he was touched.

Outside, a door slammed. Steve snorted and jerked awake. Unlike Tony, who usually took several minutes to fully wake (less only if coffee, or a crying toddler, were involved), Steve was immediately alert. His fingers flexed against Tony’s hip and a contented smile slipped across his face. He looked, in that moment, like there was no where else he would’ve rather been.

Tony had to kiss him. He lifted his head and leaned up, pressing a light good morning kiss against Steve’s mouth. He felt Steve’s smile widen as Steve kissed him back. The uncertainty and shame seemed miles away now, and he giggled when Steve’s hand slid back and groped his ass. He pulled away from the kiss and rolled on top of Steve, absently pulling his robe closed across his chest – he hadn’t even realized, until that moment, that he was still wearing it. Steve, on the other hand, was completely naked.

“And just what are you doing, Mr. Stark?” Steve asked, slipping his hands under the robe to grap Tony’s ass again. He seemed to have a fascination with that area. Tony wasn’t complaining.

“Welllllllllllll,” Tony said slowly, dragging the word out, “it seems to me that one of us got to have some fun last night, but I never did get my chance to get more acquainted with you. I’d like to rectify that, Mr. Rogers, if you’d be… amenable.” He dropped his voice into a lower register, slowly dragging his tongue across his lips. It gave him a thrill to see the way Steve’s eyes fixed on his face.

Of course, that was the moment when the bedroom door flew open behind them. “Steve! Tony!” Clint bellowed, nearly giving Tony a heart attack. The look of mortified horror on Steve’s face would’ve been amusing under any other circumstances.

He quickly rolled off of Steve and yanked his robe fully shut as Steve, with a speed only a supersoldier could be capable of, pulled the covers up around his waist. If Clint noticed anything amiss, he didn’t let on. The kid bounced onto the bed and threw himself at Tony, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist in a huge hug. Over Clint’s head, Tony watched Natasha appear in the doorway. She was trying to look contrite, but her smirk suggested she wasn’t really that sorry. Tony glowered at her. 

“Sorry,” Natasha said. “I tried to stop him, but he really missed his mommy and daddy last night.”

It was hard to get annoyed after that. Tony sighed and rested a hand on Clint’s hair, exchanging a rueful glance with Steve. “Hey buddy,” he said to Clint. “Did you have a rough night?”

“No,” Clint said in a tiny, wavering voice, which was as good as a yes.

“Nightmares?” Tony mouthed at Natasha. She nodded.

Right. The globe helped, but only so much. He mentally switched around their plans for the day, as Clint was going to need a longer nap than usual, and said, “Why don’t you come help me get dressed? Then we can have breakfast together.”

“Not hungry,” Clint mumbled.

“We’ll talk about that after I’m dressed. Up.” Tony swung his legs off the bed. It was a struggle to get up with Clint clinging to him so tightly while trying not to flash Natasha, but he managed. He wrapped an arm around Clint’s shoulders, guiding the toddler towards the door.

“He wouldn’t let me changed him,” Natasha said softly, the words meant for Tony alone. “He says he’s not, but I’m sure he’s wet.”

Tony grimaced and nodded back at her; he would’ve liked more details, but he knew that conversation was best held with Clint out of earshot. He left Steve and Natasha to talk and led Clint to his own bedroom. Clint sank down onto the bed and buried his face in pillows as Tony slipped off his robe. He hauled on a pair of boxers and jeans and then hung the robe in the closet, taking a moment to finger it. The wine red fabric looked exotic and expensive even against the usual fabrics that Tony wore. 

“It’s pretty.”

Startled, Tony looked at the bed and realized Clint was watching him. “It is, isn’t it? Your daddy bought it for me.” He grabbed a tank top out of the dresser and pulled it over his head, running a hand through his hair. Because it had air-dried, it was sticking up in little curls and tufts. He made a face at the mirror and gave up, turning back to face Clint.

The kid didn’t look good. His face was kind of pale and Tony thought he could see the remnants of dried tears on his cheeks, indicating that it really had been a bad night. Maybe it had been too soon for Clint to spend the night somewhere else. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, putting a hand on Clint’s knee. Even though it was almost eleven in the morning, he was still wearing his pajamas.

“Are you not getting dressed today?” he asked gently.

“No,” Clint said.

“Sorry little man, but I’m afraid that’s not gonna fly. Come on. Up you go.” He stood up and held out a hand. Clint pouted but took it, cold fingers clutching Tony’s hand tightly.

They walked down the hall to Clint’s nursery together. Natasha had carried Clint’s bags down, it seemed, and left them by the door. Clint’s teddy bear was sitting right on top. Tony grabbed it and passed it to Clint, figuring that the kid would want it for the conversation they were about to have. The distinct smell of urine indicated that Natasha’s suspicion was correct, and Tony had his own suspicion after seeing the way that Clint winced a little and squirmed when he sat on the bed.

“How come you wouldn’t let Aunt Tasha change you today?” Tony asked.

“I don’t need to be changed. I’m not a baby,” Clint snapped.

Tony paused for a moment before responding, gathering his thoughts. He had to handle this conversation carefully, or it could blow up in his face. “Clint, you wet yourself last night, but you didn’t take off your pull-up. Can you tell me why?”

Clint glared at him and didn’t respond. That was fine. Tony thought he already knew.

“Is it because you didn’t want to admit to Aunt Tasha that you had an accident?” Tony said, knowing that he’d hit the mark on the head when Clint winced. It had definitely been too early for Clint to go spend the night somewhere else. He knew that wearing pull-ups embarrassed Clint, but sitting around in a soiled pull-up wasn’t healthy.

He sat down on the bed beside Clint and hugged him. “If Steve and I can’t trust you to remove a wet pull-up, then we, or Aunt Tasha or whoever is looking after you, need to do it for you,” he said quietly. 

“I’m not a _baby_!” Clint yelled, jerking away from him. His face was flushed.

“Would it be so bad if you were?”

The question seemed to startle Clint. He looked at Tony, blinking. Tony met his gaze squarely.

“You know there’s no judgment around here. We’re here to give you what you need,” he said, keeping his voice soft.   
“Babies and toddlers don’t change themselves. Their mommies and daddies do that for them. If that’s what you need, that’s okay.”

“I can do it,” Clint said, though it was far from convincing. His lower lip was trembling and tears shone in his eyes.

Tony kept looking at him, not saying anything. It didn’t take long for Clint to crumble. He started to cry, covering his face with his hands. It just about broke Tony’s heart. They knew Clint was still struggling to some extent; he had days where he was a little older in his headspace, but there were just as many days where he was younger than he was comfortable with. It was an on-going struggle that Tony didn’t know how to fix, except to reassure Clint wherever he could and make sure that Clint knew they were okay with whatever he needed.

“How about this,” he whispered, “for the time being, we’ll help. If you don’t need help, that’s okay. But I need you to be honest with me.”

Clint didn’t say anything. Tony decided to take that as unspoken agreement for now. This was probably a conversation they’d have to have again. Pull-ups seemed like the only answer to this situation; as upset and embarrassed as Clint could get over wearing them and having accidents, it was nothing compared to the meltdowns he had when he woke up to find he’d wet the bed. 

He hugged Clint for a while longer, then patted the kid’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you changed, okay?”

Clint pursed his lips, tears still streaking his face, and finally nodded. He stood up when Tony motioned for him to and pulled off his pajams tops and bottoms. The pull-up was definitely wet. Tony suspected that Clint, not wanting to admit to Natasha that he had peed or that he had to pee again, had gone in it more than once, to the point where the urine had begun to soak through. If he was going to keep doing that, diapers would be the next step as they were more absorbent and could hold more – and that was a route that Clint would not want to follow. They had to do something else to help.

“Let’s go into the bathroom,” Tony said, gently guiding Clint into the room. Clint took the pull-up off and they disposed of it. He winced a lot when a warm washcloth was run between his thighs. 

Finally, he said, “It hurts.”

“Would you sit on the toilet and spread your legs?” Tony said. Clint gave him a confused look but obeyed. As Tony expected, there was a lot of irritated red skin between Clint’s thighs. Tony had come across diaper rash in some of his research about little kids, but he’d never thought they’d have to deal with it so he hadn’t ordered any of the creams to help.

He chewed his lower lip for a moment in thought, then said, “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll get JARVIS to order some cream that will help. It should be here within the hour. In the meantime, we’ll wrap a towel around your waist and you can go commando underneath.”

“Okay,” Clint said, giving a tiny smile. He obviously liked the idea of walking around commando. 

Tony smiled back at him, but he was more worried than he wanted to let on. Clint wanted this, but he was fighting against it at the same time. He’d never once used his safeword, even though both Tony and Steve had repeatedly made sure that he remembered his word and that he knew he could use it at any time. So on some level, he had to be okay with the pull-ups and everything else. But it was like he didn’t know _how_ to be okay with it, and probably a large part of that was not dealing with the trauma from Loki.

When they went back out to the kitchen, Tony pulled Steve and Natasha aside and whispered to them, “I think it’s time to look into getting Clint a therapist.”


	8. Chapter 8

Even when you lived with spies, it was surprisingly easy to be sneaky. Tony smiled to himself as he rode the elevator down to the main floor. Thanks to JARVIS, he knew that Clint, Steve, Natasha, Bruce and Thor were eating breakfast together. They were under the impression that it was one of those rare mornings where their schedules all lined up just right. None of them had any idea there was a mastermind behind it.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, realizing that JARVIS had mislead him a bit. Everyone was there, but Jane and Darcy were also present. Since Clint was sitting at the table and eating from his Captain America cereal bowl and Iron Man sippy cup, Tony figured the introductions hadn’t gone over too badly. Darcy probably thought the whole thing was adorable, and Jane and Thor tended to have eyes only for each other when they were together. Tony glanced at them and yup, the two of them were staring dreamily into each other’s eyes.

“So,” Tony drawled, coming to a stop with a hand on his hip, “who wants to go to the zoo today?”

“Me!” Clint yelled immediately.

“The zoo?” Bruce said, looking surprised and confused. “Isn’t that fairly… public?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Steve said at the same time. He was frowning at Tony. And Tony wouldn’t lie: their disbelief stung a little bit. He’d thought that they had more trust in him by now – he’d been working on this in private for weeks, not wanting to say anything just in the event that things didn’t work out the way he wanted them to – but apparently he was wrong. 

“It won’t be public. I’ve rented out the place for the day, so we’ll be alone,” Tony said, pasting on a smile to cover up what he was feeling. “JARVIS has thoroughly vetted all of the employees and I’ve personally selected the people who will be around today. All of them have signed the most iron-clad NDA’s my lawyers could come up with, and will be receiving an extra bonus if they agreed to keep their mouth’s shut about what they see. Additionally, JARVIS will be controlling the security footage the whole time we’re there. He’ll black out the cameras and make sure that any cell phones within a hundred foot radius of the zoo don’t work.”

He stopped, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He’d taken every precaution he could think of, and the zoo was more than willing to work with him for the amount of money Tony was giving them. So he finished with, “We don’t have to go if Clint doesn’t want to, but I thought he should have the option.”

Everyone was staring at him. Darcy said, “You rented out the Central Park zoo?” in a very impressed tone.

“What? No. The Central Park zoo was way too public. The more people around, the less control you have. We’d be going to Willow Cove,” Tony said. Willow Cove was a smaller city about a forty-five minute plane ride from New York. He’d done some research into their zoo. While it wasn’t as impressive as the zoos in New York, it made more sense because it was pretty unlikely there’d be any papparazzi hanging around.

“I want to go,” Clint said before anyone else could speak. 

“Clint, are you sure?” Natasha asked.

Clint nodded. “I want to go to the zoo. I wanna see the flamingoes.”

“They definitely have those,” Tony said. Some of the tightness in his chest eased. “We could leave within the hour. And you’re all wecome to join us, of course,” he added to the rest of the group.

“I’m up for it,” Darcy said. “I love tigers.”

“I would like to see a lion,” said Thor. 

“I can make some time,” Natasha said, a slow smile crossing her face.

“I guess I can too,” Jane said.

Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose. “I was going to work on an experiment today, but sure. I haven’t been to the zoo in years.”

There was one person who hadn’t spoken. Tony swallowed. “Steve?”

Steve was staring down at his cup of coffee like it held a secret. At Tony’s voice, he looked up. “What? Sure. I’m in.”

“Great,” Tony said with forced enthusiasm. Maybe he should’ve run this by Steve first. Except… except Clint really wanted to go, and Tony wanted to make that happen. He couldn’t do much else for the kid right now. Steve was the one who was good at comforting Clint after nightmares because he didn’t have a blue lamp in his chest, who could pick him up and carry him around, who had the time to sit and watch cartoons with him for hours. Making things happen using his money was what Tony was good for.

He dropped his gaze and motioned to Clint. They went upstairs together and Tony got him dressed, then packed a little bag for the day. He knew there’d be snacks and food at the zoo, but he brought a sippy cup, a couple of pull-ups and a change of clothing just in case, a jacket, three pacifiers, one of Clint’s stuffed animals, a hat, sunglasses, and a couple things to keep Clint entertained on the jet.

They met on the roof, where Natasha stalked towards the pilot seat of the jet like it was prey; no one was brave enough to dissuade her. Clint ran after her and flung himself in the co-pilot seat. Natasha caught Tony’s eyes and gave him a nod, which Tony took to mean that she was comfortable entertaining Clint for the better part of the flight. That was fine with him. It would give him the chance to take care of a few things for Pepper.

The trip to Willow Cove was surprisingly quiet. As they neared the city, Tony sent Natasha the landing coordinates and Natasha landed the plane effortlessly. They all piled off and into the two cars that were waiting. The zoo was only a ten minute drive away. Tony, who’d ended up in a car with Clint, Steve, Bruce and Darcy, couldn’t help smiling at Clint’s visible excitement. It was contagious. Even Steve was starting to look a little excited as they pulled up in front of the zoo.

Tony really only dropped his guard once they were safely inside and the gates had been closed. He scanned the perimeter, noticing that the zoo – as promised – had fifteen-foot walls. That would prevent anyone from seeing them from the outside. The inside was deserted; the employees had promised to keep their distance as much as possible. He glanced up at the nearest security camera and watched it bob up and down three times. That was the private signal he’d worked out with JARVIS to indicate that JARVIS had full control.

“Flamingoes!” Clint screamed, taking off at a dead run towards the pond. Tony laughed and ran after him, catching up just in time to see one of the graceful birds settling in for a nap. It lifted one of its legs and tucked it up underneath its body, taking absolutely no notice of Clint.

“They’re pretty,” Tony said. “Here, I have something for you.” He took a camera from his pocket and presented it to Clint. It was a point-and-shoot camera designed specifically for children, which meant it was a little more rugged than most. He showed Clint how to use it, then handed it off to the Clint. A beaming smile was his reward before Clint ran out onto the little dock and began snapping away.

Thank god Tony had thought to upgrade it with a much larger memory card than it had come with. He had the feeling that Clint would have hundreds of pictures by the end of the day.

He turned slightly to look for the rest of the team, while also keeping an eye on Clint. He hadn’t said as much, but he thought this outing would be good for all of them. Tony was really the only one who had an active life outside of the tower. Natasha and Steve had SHIELD business sometimes, and Bruce had science, and Thor would go visit Jane if she was in London, but for the most part everyone stuck to the tower aside from avenging. They didn’t get the chance to do many team activities outside the tower.

No one else was in sight. Tony figured they’d probably run off to do their own thing and shrugged, turning back to Clint. That was fine. He could chase a hyperactive toddler around for a while. Chances were Clint would crash after a couple of hours, and that would be a good time to take a break. They’d have a snack and maybe ride the train around the zoo.

He was surprised when an arm landed around his shoulders. Had this been two years ago, Tony would’ve immediately driven an elbow into the side of whoever had touched him. Now, he was familiar enough with Steve’s cologne and the feel of him – and when had that happened? – to know, without looking, that it was Steve. Tony leaned into him instead, briefly resting his head against Steve’s shoulder, and felt Steve kiss the top of his head.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

Tony blinked as Clint began squealing about some ducks. “Sorry? For what?”

“For not being supportive about this. I honestly didn’t think there was a way to pull it off. I should’ve known better. You can do anything you put your mind to,” Steve said. The naked affection in his voice sent chills down Tony’s spine. In spite of the warm sunlight, he shivered a little.

“It’s not a big deal. I know it’s a lot. Not everyone could rent out a zoo.”

“No, but you did. For Clint. Thank you.”

“You probably won’t be so keen to thank me when we’ve got an overtired, cranky little kid on our hands,” Tony said, finally lifting his head to look at Steve. “I know I should’ve talked to you about it first. More than we did, I mean. But Clint really wanted to come.”

Steve’s smile broadened, turning a little soft at the edges. “You surprised us all with an outing, Tony. An outing that otherwise wouldn’t have happened, especially with Clint in his headspace. You took a problem and you solved it. That’s what you do and I don’t have the right to be huffy about that, and I shouldn’t have doubted you or said no without hearing the details first. It’s fine. It’s… more than fine. I guess I’m just being overprotective. He seems so fragile right now.”

The rest of the tension melted away. He could hardly begrudge Steve for caring about Clint. After all, that was what Tony was trying to do too. He said, “I know. I get it. But you can’t stop him from doing stuff just because of that. It’s not fair to Clint. I did what I could to make this a safe environment. Short of moving a zoo into the tower –”

“I know. I know you did, and I appreciate it.” Steve leaned down and kissed him gently. Against Tony’s lips, he shyly whispered, “I’ve always wanted to see the penguins.”

“Penguins? Really?” Tony said. 

“I think they’re neat.”

“Neat,” Tony repeated, amused. “Well, I guess we can fit some penguins in on our schedule today.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “And wolves? I like wolves too.”

“And wolves,” Tony agreed. He rummaged around in the bag he was carrying and came up with something that wasn’t for Clint. It was a new sketchpad, along with a new set of Steve’s favorite of pencils. He handed it over to a very surprised looking Steve.

“What’s this for?” Steve said.

“You’re an artist; I’m sure you can guess. Go nuts.”

“You’re giving my permission to sketch you?” Steve was starting to grin.

“I said go nuts and I meant it,” Tony said. He was sure that the sketchbook would be completely filled before the day was through. Steve was blessed with an eidetic memory, which meant that he’d be able to draw scenes from memory – so even if he couldn’t get them all down today, he’d keep at it until he had drawn everything he wanted to. If his head surfaced from that sketchbook even once for the next week, Tony would be surprised.

Steve grabbed him and kissed him hard. “You’re the best,” he said, then let Tony go and jogged down to join Clint, sketchbook tucked under his arm. Tony stared after him, flustered, one hand brushing his lips.


	9. Chapter 9

“Steve’s a good dad. They look cute together.”

Tony startled, nearly dropping his phone. He checked the screen to make sure he’d gotten the photo he wanted, then turned to Natasha. “He _is_ a good dad,” he agreed, feeling warm that she’d acknowledged it. Parenting, even when it was for a little, was hard, and it was nice that other people could see the effort that Steve was putting into it.

“You’re a good mom too,” Natasha said, her voice gentling. She’d always been able to see through him. “Clint adores you. He wouldn’t have come as far as he has without you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Tony said, redirecting his attention back to Clint and Steve. They were admiring a lion, who was strutting around in front of them. Tony, who was standing two platforms above them, had a perfect view. He thought he might get JARVIS to print off a picture of them later.

“I do. You do a lot, Tony. Give yourself some credit.”

Tony just shrugged; he didn’t feel like discussing whether or not he was parenting material today. Natasha sighed but dropped it, stepping up beside him and leaning against the rail. Her red hair was down around her shoulders today. She’d been growing it longer, Tony had noticed. When the wind blew, it brought the calming scent of her vanilla shampoo to his nose. He leaned against the railing too, cocking his hip playfully against hers. She smiled and bumped him back.

They were quiet for a moment, enjoying the sun and the breeze, and then Tony said, “Steve bought me panties.” He didn’t know he was going to say it, and he was mortified the moment his brain registered what he’d said. His face grew hot for a reason that had nothing to do with the sun.

For her part, Natasha seemed nonplussed. “That was nice of him,” she said. “What’s his taste level like?”

“Good, I guess?” Tony said blankly. “They were silk. Black. With red lace,” he added when she frowned, which made her nod approvingly.

“They sound pretty. What was it like wearing them?”

“I didn’t.”

“No?” Natasha turned to look at him. Her eyes were hidden behind her sunglasses. “Why not?”

“I… it’s weird,” Tony said, and he knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn’t figure out how to stop. “Men don’t wear panties.” There was a lot more he could have said, Howard’s words tumbling through his mind, but he managed to bite them back. He’d heard them often enough growing up that he didn’t want to repeat them now, even if they were burned into his brain.

“Men,” Natasha said, “can wear whatever they like. So can women. You never judge me for stealing Thor’s sweaters.”

“It’s _Thor_ and his sweaters are amazingly cuddly,” Tony pointed out.

She pushed her sunglasses up. “Point, but still. You’re not less of a man because you enjoy wearing panties. Or because you enjoy wearing dresses or make-up or heels or what the fuck ever you want to wear. Frankly, all of this hubbub about manliness baffles me. When I was growing up in the Red Room, they taught us to wear whatever it took to get the mission finished. I’ve lived as a man, back when I had to get close to a target. I bound my breasts and they gave me an artificial packer made especially for me.”

When Tony looked at her blankly, Natasha waved a hand in front of her crotch. “You know… to make it look like I have a penis.”

“Oh,” Tony said. It sounded stupid. He _felt_ stupid. He wasn’t sure how to respond to this revelation. He supposed it made sense in a weird sort of way. Considering everything else the Red Room had done to her and the other Black Widows, posing as a man was probably nothing.

“That didn’t make me less of a woman because I am a woman,” Natasha told him. “The same goes for you.”

Tony attempted to smile. “Did you just call me a woman?”

She shrugged. “If you were, or if you were anything… in between, let’s say, it wouldn’t bother me or Steve or anyone else who loves you. Anyone who had a problem with it would have to go through me.” She smiled sweetly. On anyone else it would’ve been cute; on Natasha, it was terrifying. Tony’s heart skipped a beat and he wasn’t even the one she was indirectly threatening.

“Not even you could kill half the world,” Tony said, but he had to admit that what she said helped. _What_ it was helping, he wasn’t sure. Not yet.

“Oh, Tony,” Natasha said, all faux sympathy, “You have no idea what I could do.” She grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders, pushing their faces together. “Seriously. Did you want to wear the panties?”

Tony squirmed. It was hard to admit, but Natasha’s eyes were intense and wouldn’t let him escape. Finally, he mumbled, “… Yes.”

“Did Steve want you to wear the panties?”

“Yes.”

“Then wear the damn panties, Stark. What goes on in the privacy of your bedroom is between you and Steve regardless, but you’re not hurting anyone and there’s no shame in it. That’s the same thing I used to tell Clint when he’d freak out about what him and Coulson were doing.”

“It is?” Tony said, surprised.

Natasha nodded. “It took him a really long time to get comfortable. In the beginning, Coulson practically had to hold him down and force him to play. Which, before you ask, Clint was perfectly okay with. He wanted it, but he needed someone to make him do it. And Coulson was fine with that too.” She paused for a second, tilting her head consideringly. “Actually, now that I think about it, that may have been the part Coulson liked the most, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“That… actually makes sense, given what I know of Coulson. He once threatened to taser me and make me watch Supernanny,” Tony said.

“Yep, that was his favorite threat.” The smile faded from Natasha’s face and she sighed. This was the first time Tony had heard her talk about Coulson since it came out that he was still alive. He tentatively wrapped an arm around Natasha’s waist in return. 

“He’s a good guy,” Tony said tentatively, even though Coulson was the last person he wanted to talk about. Sometimes he still worried that Coulson would change his mind and decide that he wanted Clint, and that Clint would end up leaving with him. Logically he knew that was unlikely, but it was hard to get over your first. How many times had Tony been suckered by Tiberius Stone before Rhodey ended it once and for all? Countless. And Coulson was, all things considered, a far better man than Stone would ever be.

“No, he’s not. But it doesn’t matter right now. The point is, if this is something you want and that would make you happy then you should do it. Don’t listen to what anyone else says or has said. We’re super heroes. You never know when we might encounter a mission that we won’t come back from. So you should do it, and do it now.” She paused, then added, “And tell me all the details.”

Tony sputtered at that. “Natasha!”

“What? I’m not having sex with anyone. I need to live vicariously through someone.”

“What about Thor?”

Natasha scoffed. “Listening to Jane just makes me want to jump Thor. I’d give anything to go for a ride on that beard.” A dreamy expression crossed her face.

“Actually, I would too,” Tony admitted. He lo – liked Steve a lot, but Thor was a very sexy piece of Asgardian. The fact that, when the Avengers had first moved into the tower, Thor had gone through a phase of walking around naked hadn’t helped. Jane was a very lucky woman.

They stood there for a long moment, both of them lost in fantasies. Then, unexpectedly, Steve’s voice said behind them, “What are you two doing?”

Tony startled for the second time in less than twenty minutes and squeaked, but Natasha recovered beautifully. “We were watching you and Clint with the lion and having a private chat,” she said, giving Tony one last squeeze with her arm.

Steve looked somewhat bemused. “Clint and I finished with the lions ten minutes ago.”

“Did you? I guess it’s my turn, then.” Natasha turned her head to look at Tony. “Remember what Clint needed at first? Maybe you could benefit from that too,” she murmured. She gave Tony a meaningful look and then pulled away, sauntering past Steve with a nod. Steve turned his head to watch her go, clearly baffled, before he looked back at Tony. Had this been a cartoon, there would’ve been a giant question mark hovering above Steve’s head.

“Where’s Clint?” Tony asked, partially in an attempt to put off this conversation but also because he was a little concerned.

“He’s with Thor and Bruce. He wanted to spend time in the bird house. Thor volunteered to take him flying in there and Bruce said he’d supervise.” Steve moved closer, taking Natasha’s place. It was obvious he wanted to ask what they’d been talking about, but was too polite.

Tony sighed, not sure if he should curse Natasha or not, and succumbed to the inevitable. “I was talking to Natasha about your, um, you gift.”

Slight color rose on Steve’s cheeks. “You did?”

Too late, Tony realized that maybe he should’ve talked to Steve before Natasha. “I – sorry. It just came out. That was private, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said gently, taking his hand. “Natasha knows everything anyway. She would’ve figured it out sooner or later.”

That was true. Tony bobbed his head, not looking Steve in the eye. “She, er, she suggested that… that if I was having trouble, um, wearing your gift, that maybe you could… you could make me.”

“ _Make_ you?” Steve’s voice was colored with shock, and Tony knew instantly he’d used the wrong phrasing. He shook his head quickly and finally glanced up, meeting Steve’s gaze.

“Not… not make me as in, hurt me. Make me as in… order me to do it,” Tony muttered. He didn’t know why this was so hard. He’d experimented with BDSM plenty in his youth, and he’d come to terms with the fact that he preferred being the sub a long time ago. It wasn’t something that he wanted or needed all the time, but some light spanking and praise and firm orders? Yeah, he was on board with that. He just didn’t know if Steve would be, or if Steve would even know what that was.

But Steve’s confusion had vanished, replaced by a thoughtful nod. “It would be easier for you if I ordered you to wear them, honey?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said in a tiny voice, dropping his eyes again. A weird mixture of shame and guilt rolled through his chest. 

“Okay. I can do that. I didn’t know that was something you’d be interested in.”

Tony shrugged. “It’s not something I’d want all the time. It’s just… this is hard.” He was focusing on the ground, so he was surprised when Steve’s hand cupped his cheek and gently drew his chin up. Even then, it was difficult to look into Steve’s eyes.

“We can do whatever makes it easier,” Steve whispered, “but Tony, you don’t have to do this just to make me happy. I bought you those panties because I thought you’d like them. If you don’t –”

“No! I do! I want to wear them!” Tony exclaimed, maybe a bit too exuberantly, and immediately tried to calm himself. “I – I mean, I like them just fine. They’re fine.”

Steve studied him with a penetrating set of blue eyes that made Tony’s stomach explode into butterflies. Just like with Natasha, it felt as though Steve was seeing far more than Tony was comfortable with. But he couldn’t make himself look away, either. He stared back helplessly, wondering why everything in life had to be so fucking hard. It was a pair of panties for god’s sake. Why couldn’t he just do it? It didn’t have to mean anything, so why did it feel like those panties meant _everything_?

“Okay,” Steve said again, and then he smiled. “Sure, baby. We’ll put Clint to bed tonight and try again.” He pulled Tony close, wrapping him up in a big hug. It was exactly what Tony needed after such an intense conversation and he burrowed into it gladly, soaking up Steve’s strength and warmth and thinking to himself that he was the luckiest person in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

Around noon, they gathered for lunch. Clint was bubbling over with excitement, eyes bright and hands waving madly as he told a patient Jane and Darcy all about the animals he’d seen that morning. They’d managed to see about half the zoo; Tony knew they had a long afternoon ahead of them, as they hadn’t yet seen the reptiles, the penguins or otters, the wolves, or the monkeys – and he was pretty sure that Clint would want to see every inch before they left.

“At least it’ll be easy to put him to bed tonight,” Tony said. He peered up at the menu. It look like pretty standard zoo fare. Hamburgers, hot dogs, french fries, veggie burgers, slices of pizza, chicken wings, chicken strips, ice cream, and a variety of sweets. They were going to need a lot of food to feed three women, three men, a super soldier and a god. It was a good thing the zoo took credit cards.

“I have the feeling he’s going to crash long before that,” Steve replied. “But I’m not complaining.” As he stepped forward to order, he pinched Tony’s ass. Tony jumped and bit back a startled squeak. The employee in the window gave him an odd look. He smiled back, sure that his face was pink, and shot Steve a glare. Steve simply grinned and began rattling off a substantial order of food.

Thor came over to help them carry the five trays back to the two picnic tables. Two of the loaded trays were for Steve and Thor alone; Tony dispersed the food on the remaining two trays out to Bruce, Clint, Darcy, Jane, Natasha and himself. He ended up with a hamburger and some french fries. Clint got chicken strips, which were one of the few foods he’d eat when he was this excited, so Tony had no complaints about that.

“I wanna see the penguins next,” Clint said to Tony.

Tony nodded, checking his phone. “We can do that.” The timing would work out perfectly. They were supposed to be feeding the penguins right around that time. 

There wasn’t a scrap of food left when they were all finished. Tony bought some popcorn and their group lazily walked over to the penguin exhibit. It was cold inside the room, colder than Tony had expected it to be. He slid closer to Steve under the guise of being chilly, prompting Steve to automatically wrap an arm around his shoulders. The contact meant that the glazed look in Steve’s eyes melted away, bringing him back to the here and now, and he squeezed Tony’s shoulder in silent gratitude.

The little show was adorable. Tony could tell that Clint enjoyed himself immensely, and he wasn’t the only one. He watched the others more than he watched the show, delighting in the glow in Natasha’s eyes and Bruce’s grin. It was so rare that the team got the chance to relax and unwind outside of the tower. He quietly resolved to do things like this more often. Maybe next time he could rent out an amusement park, or even a water park. No one would question it if he did; everyone knew that the Avengers were hounded by press and fans alike when they went outside, so wanting privacy for some fun made sense.

When the show was over, their group filed outside. They visited the reptile house, walked through the monkey cages, and the wolves. By the time Darcy was finished cooing over how adorable the cubs were, it was getting on in the afternoon and Clint was beginning to flag. He yawned several times, blinking sleepily at the wolves. Tony was wondering whether he would make it through the otters when Thor stooped down.

“How about a ride, young one?” he asked.

“A ride?” Clint said.

Thor turned, showing his back to Clint. “I believe it is called a pig ride.”

“You mean a piggy back ride,” Jane said, smiling. 

“Oh!” Clint’s eyes lit up and he moved forward, bracing his knees on either side of Thor’s torso and wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck. Thor gripped Clint’s knees and stood, easily taking the brunt of Clint’s weight against his back. Nestled against him, Clint looked strangely small. Tony couldn’t help taking a picture of them with his phone.

“That’s great, Thor,” Tony said, examining the picture. “Alright, last stop.”

On their way to the otter exhibit, they passed a large pond. Clint suddenly squealed. “Look! Look! Flamingoes!”

Everyone looked, Tony included. Sure enough, a dozen of the pink birds were standing alongside the pond. Most of them were sleeping, but a few were eyeing their group warily. They were smaller than Tony had expected, and were actually a very pretty shade of bright pink. There were even a handful of babies, which looked incredibly soft and fuzzy and were milky white. 

It was immediate love, and Tony found himself wandering closer. There was a little bridge crossing the pond, which you could walk out onto. When he did, he realized that the pond was filled with koi and goldfish. The fish were swimming lazily about, apparently unconcerned by the large shadow crossing the water. As Tony watched, a duck swam out from under the bridge. Five fuzzy ducklings followed at a leisurely pace.

“Oh my god, they’re so cute,” Darcy said, clutching at Tony’s arm. “Look!” She pointed to one duckling, which had put on a burst of speed. It skimmed across the water for about two feet before slowing down.

“That’s adorable,” Tony said, mesmerized when a second duckling did the same thing. The scene became even cuter when one of the ducklings ran right into a baby flamingo; the flamingo toppled over into the water, screeching indignantly, and surfaced with a second splash. The duckling fled. Tony laughed.

His ears picked up on a familiar _click_ and he looked around, realizing that the others had moved on. Bruce and Steve had stayed behind. Bruce was watching the mother duck, but Steve was staring at Tony and Bruce and holding his phone. No, he was taking pictures. Tony flushed a little, knowing that Steve must have caught him and Darcy fawning over the birds. But they were so cute! It was hard not to.

He decided to ignore Steve and turned back just in time to see the other three ducklings go skimming across the water. They were amazingly playful, flicking water into the air and at each other. He could’ve watched them play for hours, but eventually the mother duck swam and quacked sharply. Her ducklings swam to her and the group vanished back under the bridge. With them gone, the flamingoes quickly settled down and went back to sleep, even the babies. The pond settled, with even the fish swimming away.

Darcy sighed happily. “Baby things are so cute. Do you think Jane would be mad if I stole a duckling and took it home?”

“Yes,” Tony said instantly, his brain conjuring up an image of a very unimpressed Jane yelling at him because he hadn’t stopped Darcy. “Steve and I may look into buying Clint a puppy. Does that work?”

“Really?” Darcy said, looking considerably more cheerful.

Tony nodded. “Don’t mention it to Clint. I haven’t talked to Steve about it yet,” he cautioned. He didn’t want to get Clint’s hopes up when he wasn’t sure how Steve would feel about it: care for a dog would fall mostly on them, he was sure, since most days Clint’s headspace wasn’t old enough to take full responsibility. Steve probably wouldn’t mind that so much, but he could be funny about stuff like that sometimes.

Hopefully Tony would be able to talk him around. Every kid deserved to have a pet if they wanted one, and he was sure that Clint would. He’d never had one. Howard had told him to shut up the first time Tony asked – Jarvis had quietly told him that it would be best if he didn’t ask again. Tony had agreed, but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting a pet. He’d gone ahead and built himself a pet, a little robot dog, thinking that would be okay. Not so much. His father had found out within a week and destroyed it in a drunken rage. 

It was something that Tony had never told anyone, not even Rhodey, but that was the reason he’d never created another robot until he was at MI6 and made Dummy.

“My lips are sealed,” said Darcy, bringing Tony back to the here and now. She mimed zipping her lips shut. 

“Thanks. In the meantime, I can buy you a duckling plushie on the way out if you want.”

“That works!”

True to Tony’s word, once they were done with the otters, they stopped in the gift shop. It was actually a very impressively sized shop, with plenty of souvenirs. Tony subtly handed his credit card to the cashier and told her to ring up everything that the group purchased on his card, then walked over intending to help Clint choose between a flamingo toy and a wolf toy.

Instead, his attention was caught by a lovely bracelet. Made from pale pink stones that were the exact color of the flamingoes they’d seen, the bracelet was pretty simple by most standards. On the front was a small silver plaque that said the name of the zoo, with space on the back for a date or name to be engraved. Tony picked it up, realizing that the stones were surprisingly solid. He pushed them apart to check the strength of the wire they were strung on and saw that it was good quality, designed to last.

“It’s pretty,” Steve said.

For once, Tony didn’t jump. He just nodded. “Yeah, it is. Too bad Pepper’s a redhead. I keep telling her she can wear pink just fine, but she never believes me.”

“I didn’t mean for Pepper. I meant for you.”

The back of Tony’s neck prickled. That same feeling from earlier swept over him and he fought the urge to squirm, muttering, “It’s a bracelet, Steve. Guys don’t wear those.”

“Why not? I think it would look stunning on you. You wear red so well, I have to believe you could wear pink too.” Steve took the bracelet. It looked dainty in his big hand. He gently took hold of Tony’s left wrist and draped the bracelet across his skin, sliding together the clasp. He adjusted the bracelet so that the silver plaque was left facing up and smiled, the look in his eyes so fond that it took Tony’s breath way.

“I… I dunno…” Tony said, lowering his gaze. He had to admit that the bracelet did look nice. The pink shade complimented the tanned color of his skin. He thought he remembered his mother wearing this shade, or something very close, a few times.

“It looks beautiful,” Steve murmured. “I could have it engraved with the date. That way you would have a memory of our day at the zoo. Would you like that?”

Tony’s face felt hot. He’d blushed more in the past six months than he had in his whole life, but there was just something about Steve that seemed to bring that out in. He cleared his throat and tried to speak a couple of times, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. The bracelet really was pretty, and suddenly Tony wanted it with a desperation that he couldn’t put into words.

He never got to have anything pretty.

“I’m buying it and getting it engraved. You can wear it tonight if you want,” Steve said. He removed the bracelet, leaving Tony’s wrist feeling bare, and reeled Tony in for a quick hug and kiss before he marched over to the cashier. Tony watched him go and had to take a moment to collect himself.

The moment ended quickly, when Clint barreled over clutching three different toys. “I don’t know which one to choose!” he cried, waving them in Tony’s face.

“You can get all three,” Tony said with a quick shake of his head to clear it, gently catching Clint’s hands. He examined the three toys: the flamingo, the wolf, and an otter. All of them were equally adorable and he could see why Clint was having a hard time picking. Well, Steve wasn’t looking and three toys had to be better than just one.


	11. Chapter 11

When they got back to the mansion, it turned out that Tony's earlier prediction was true: putting Clint to bed was a breeze. Clint managed to eat half a grilled cheese sandwich before he pushed the rest away, looking cross and sulky. Steve scooped him up and took him into the bathroom. It was a true testament to how tired Clint was that he didn't fuss when Steve gave him a bath instead of letting him take a shower on his own, like they had been. Perhaps they'd do baths more often from now on, Tony thought idly as he turned the covers of Clint's bed down. 

Steve emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, Clint held with one arm. He was already dressed in his pull-up and pajamas, and yawning so widely that it left tears in his eyes. Tony smiled and patted the bed. He estimated that Clint had maybe five minutes before he passed out completely, but it turned out that Clint didn't even last that long. The kid was out like a light the instant that his head touched the pillow, thumb gravitating up towards his mouth. Tony gently pushed his hand away and substituted a pacifier, then pulled the blankets up over Clint's shoulders. He tucked in the otter plushie, kissed Clint's forehead, and slipped out, with Steve following a moment later. 

"Don't think I didn't see all those toys you bought him," Steve whispered, leaving the door open a crack. With Steve's superior hearing, he'd be able to hear if Clint cried out even with the doors shut - but Tony liked to think it would give Clint an extra edge of reassurance that his parents were nearby if he woke up in the middle of the night. He knew from experience that tightly shut doors could be scary, because you had no way of knowing what was on the other side.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tony said, pulling an innocent face. By the time they'd left the souvenir shop, Steve and Thor had been loaded down with at least a dozen bags apiece. Not all of the stuff had been for Clint, though. Tony really had bought some stuff for Pepper and Rhodey and Happy - he'd either mail Rhodey's to him, or wait until Rhodey was in town next time. Darcy had at least three bags just for her. Even Thor had gotten in on it, saying that he wanted to buy toys to bring back to his friends on Asgard.

"Sure you don't," Steve said, an amused glint in his eye, putting a hand on Tony's back as they walked down the hall. Heading for Steve's bedroom, Tony belatedly realized, and his heart began to thump as he recalled their earlier conversation. They entered the bedroom and his eyes were immediately drawn to the bed, where the robe and panties were laid out. When had Steve found the time to do that?

As though sensing where Tony's thoughts had gone, Steve cleared his throat a couple times. "I, uh, I'm not comfortable with doing this unless we have a safeword."

Tony's heartrate slowed from the drastic increase it had taken during the start of that sentence. He had to take a breath, leaning against the dresser. "That's fair." He cast his thoughts around for something that they wouldn't talk about during sexual play. He didn't have a safeword that he used frequently, as he always trusted JARVIS to watch over him. Especially now that JARVIS had access to the Iron Man armor. He was 100% positive that JARVIS would not hesitate to intervene if he felt that Tony was being mistreated or hurt in some way. But he also knew that not everyone had that level of trust in an A.I.

"How about flamingo?" Steve volunteered shyly. 

In spite of himself, Tony smiled. "That's perfect."

Steve nodded. "Good. Anything off limits?"

"I don't like much attention being paid to my chest. I'd prefer if you didn't touch me there right now," Tony said. As much as he trusted Steve, and he really did, the thought of anyone touching the arc reactor was enough to make a cold sweat break out. Maybe later he might be ready for that, but not yet.

"Of course." Steve squared his shoulders, straightening his back. His eyes took on a hint of a steely gaze, a shadow of the command he held in the field, but still something that Tony found himself responding to. In a gentle, but firm tone that expected obedience, Steve said, "Tony, I want you to take off all your clothes."

Take off everything. That meant Steve would be seeing his chest. Well, Tony had known he wouldn't be able to put it off forever. He refused to panic over it, instead removing his jeans and t-shirt. His skin pebbled with goosebumps as he handed his shirt to Steve, who folded it neatly and set it on the dresser. Tony was a little slower to remove the vest he was wearing under the t-shirt, but, if Steve noticed the hesitation, he didn't point it out. He just smiled and waited patiently. The unspoken understanding gave Tony the courage to pull his vest off, letting the blue light of the reactor shine forth and exposing his scars to Steve.

"I know it's bad," he said quietly as Steve looked at him. "I've done what I can, but the damage was pretty extensive. I guess that's what happens when you have open heart surgery in a dirty cave."

A muscle in Steve's jaw ticked at the reference to what Tony had suffered, but he just shook his head and said, "Tony, your scars are evidence of how strong you are. I would never think of you as anything but beautiful."

"God you're such a sap," Tony said, but affectionately, and truthfully he did feel a little more relaxed now. Enough so that he handed the vest to Steve and then went to work on his belt, pulling it loose so that he could slip off his jeans and boxers. Last to go were his socks, kicked aside because they were sweaty and smelly after a full day, and then he stood naked before Steve.

It was obvious Steve liked what he saw. But instead of ordering Tony to put on the panties, which was what Tony was expecting, Steve said, "We're going to take a shower together."

"A shower?" Tony repeated, surprised but pleased. He really did feel kind of gross, and sexy shower time fun sounded like an amazing idea. He eagerly followed Steve into the bathroom, where Steve stripped down too. Both naked, they climbed into the shower, which was easily big enough to comfortably accommodate them.

But if Tony was expecting sexytimes, he was in for a disappointment. Steve was all business, soaping Tony up with a loofah. He made sure every inch of Tony was clean, but his fingers didn’t linger anywhere interesting. Tony tried not to pout as he was gently pushed backwards under the spray. He happened to like being fucked up against a shower wall, and he knew Steve was more than capable of doing that.

“Wanna wash me?” Steve asked when Tony was clean, offering him the loofah.

At least Tony could get his revenge. He took the loofah, squeezed some bodywash on it, and then lathered it up. He took his time running his hands all over Steve’s body, silently admiring the array of muscles beneath the skin. People might think that Steve’s body was just because of the serum, but those idiots didn’t see the hours that Steve spent in the gym, or the miles upon miles that he ran every single day. Steve worked extremely hard to keep his body in peak supersoldier condition and it really showed.

“You’re beautiful too,” Tony whispered, looking up at Steve. He’d knelt to wash Steve’s lower legs, which mean his face was just inches away from a part of Steve’s anatomy that was becoming very interested by Tony’s presence. He gave a naughty smile, wondering what Steve would do if he opened his mouth and just – 

“Okay,” Steve said quickly. He stepped around Tony to rinse himself off. Tony pouted but stood, watching the way the water ran down Steve’s torso, belly and thighs. Human perfection indeed. There were so many people who would kill to be in his position right now.

Steve switched the shower off, drawing Tony’s attention back to him. He stepped out first, grabbing a towel and handing it to Tony. They both dried off, and Tony had to admit that it felt good to be clean after a long day in the sun. He handed his towel to Steve to be tossed in the hamper, but was surprised when Steve just dropped the towels on the floor and looked at Tony.

“I want you,” he said in a low voice, “to go put those panties now.”

Oh shit. Tony’s heart quickened. He should’ve been expecting this, but somehow the shower had wiped all thoughts of the panties out of his mind. He knew from the stern expression on Steve’s face that there was no point in trying to argue, so he shuffled back out into the bedroom and over to the bed. There the panties were, all black silk and red lace. He slowly picked them up, startled all over again by how exquisitely soft the lace was.

This was the moment of truth. He thought about dropping them back on the bed and safewording out. But he knew that if he did, Steve would immediately whisk them away and Tony would never see them again. They’d probably never talk about it again, either. Steve wouldn’t bring it up because he’d think Tony wouldn’t want to talk about it, and Tony would be far too embarrassed to mention it.

Shamefully, his fingers shook as he bent over. He lifted one foot and carefully slid it through a leg hole, then lifted the other and repeated the action. The panties were around his ankles now. He remembered Natasha’s words about not having to prove that he was a man, and gently gripped the silk and pulled them up his calves, over his knees, and then up his thighs until the fabric settling into place over his ass. He let the waistband go and slipped a hand inside to adjust his dick, then smoothed the lack into place. The panties molded against him like they’d been made with him in mind.

His skin prickled self-consciously and he had to fight the urge to immediately take the panties back off. Slowly, he turned to look at Steve. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the look of awe on Steve’s face wasn’t it. Tony just stared as Steve closed the distance between them, holding something in his hand. It wasn’t until Steve’s fingers touched him, sending a chill up Tony’s arm, and then receded, leaving something cold behind, that Tony realized what he was doing. The bracelet hung from his wrist.

“Steve,” Tony whispered, embarrassed, yet there was a strange yearning burning through him. He’d never consciously realized just how much he wanted someone to look at him that way when he was wearing traditionally feminine clothing. Probably because he’d never dared do anything like this before. Steve’s smile, his _approval_ , Tony soaked it all up like a sponge.

“Don’t,” Steve said, placing a finger over Tony’s lips. “Unless you’re gonna safeword, please let me talk first. You look amazing, baby. I can tell how conflicted you are, and I want you to know that I’m so proud of you right now. I don’t care ] whether you wear men’s clothes or women’s clothes or no clothes at all, whether you paint your nails or come kiss me covered in grease, whether you wear those cute little heels or walk around barefoot. No matter what you’re wearing, you’ll _always_ be my Tony.”

Oh god. It was astonishing how jaw-droppingly sweet Steve could be sometimes. Tony honestly didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this man, but he would be forever grateful for whatever forces in the universe came together to put Steve into his life. He still felt silly, but Steve was looking at him like he was beautiful and that was a very potent thing.

Seemingly sensing Tony’s doubt, Steve took Tony’s hand and pressed it to his crotch. He was hard already, and whispered, “This is because of you, sweetheart. Because you’re so gorgeous and sexy and I want…”

“What do you want?” Tony breathed.

“I want you to dance for me,” Steve said unexpectedly. Tony raised an eyebrow at that, a little surprised but intrigued. 

This, he could do.


	12. Chapter 12

Dancing for Steve… it helped. It left Tony feeling sexy and desired, if only because Steve’s hungry eyes followed his every step. Shimmying his hips made Steve sit up straight, watching Tony’s body the way a hungry cat would watch a mouse. Yet Tony didn’t feel like a mouse; he had a lot more control in this situation than Steve, who’d sat with a promise to watch and not touch.

He turned slowly, hands extended so that Steve could see every inch of his body, then prowled closer. Steve licked his lips as Tony knelt on the edge of the bed, straddling Steve’s lap. They weren’t touching yet, but Tony could see the fine hairs on Steve’s chest and belly standing up straight. He smirked to himself and began to slide onto Steve’s lap, ghosting his hands across Steve’s body – never quite touching, but close.

That infamous will lasted for approximately forty-five seconds. Then Steve let out a strangled groan and his hands flew up, resting on Tony’s hips. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, running his thumbs across the lace. Tony’s skin tingled.

“You asked me to dance, so I’m dancing. You said nothing about where I was supposed to dance,” Tony said with another mischievous smirk. It surprised him to realize that he’d liked dancing in the panties. They were comfortable and easy to move around in, but kept his junk concealed. He could imagine wearing them on an every day basis. 

As quickly as that thought flickered across his mind, Tony shooed it away. 

“What a little minx you are. I should have known,” Steve said with a shake of his head, but the playful smile on his face spoke volumes. “Would you dance with me?”

“I am,” Tony said.

“With me, not on me,” Steve replied. He suddenly gripped Tony’s waist and stood, eliciting a shocked yelp from Tony. His legs dangled as Steve moved them into the middle of the room. Steve eased him down then, but kept one hand wrapped around Tony’s back. With the other, he took Tony’s left hand and intertwined their fingers.

“You’re joking,” Tony said, looking at him in disbelief. “You’re naked and I’m wearing panties and you want to _waltz_?!”

“I am not joking,” Steve said, face perfectly straight. “JARVIS? Could you put some music on?”

Tony kept staring even as JARVIS began to play some music and Steve took a step backwards. Tony followed automatically; he was practiced at both leading and being lead, though it had been a long time since someone else had taken control of a dance like this. He was suddenly grateful for the dance teachers he’d had in his youth, who had insisted that there may be an occasion where he’d need to let his partner lead. It was had infuriated Howard, who’d gone on a rant about how no son of his would ever be the woman in a dance.

Shows what his father knew. Tony tried not to smile as Steve’s fingers ghosted across his lower back, leaving a wave of gooseflesh in their wake and send chills up Tony’s spine. It was a little strange to look up to see Steve’s eyes; normally when they danced at events, Tony was wearing his lifts and that meant the top of his head was level with Steve’s eyes. Right now, his head barely touched Steve’s chin.

Steve looked down at him and smiled. His cheeks were flushed, probably more from excitement than exertion, since Tony had seen him practically destroy the gym without even breaking a sweat. But he looked so _happy_ , and all they were doing was dancing. Tony would’ve made fun of him, but he couldn’t deny the surge of warmth that was bubbling up in his chest.

“You’re a good dancer,” Tony said softly. “You’ve improved a lot.” As if to underscore his compliment, Steve gently spun him out, then pulled him back in. Tony tingled from head to toe at the heat of Steve’s bare body against his back. He didn’t want to move away, but Steve insisted, turning him around and taking hold of his hand again so that they could keep moving.

Steve snorted. “I pretty much had to, didn’t I? That poor instructor. I think I broke all of her toes before I finally figured it out.”

“SHIELD has good worker’s compensation, and just think of the story she has to tell,” Tony said with a grin. 

“Because that’s what I want. That story spread all over town,” Steve said dryly, mouth twitching into a smile.

“Makes you more human, Cap. People don’t like heroes that aren’t human,” Tony said. He’d learned that the hard way. Being perfect meant that people would be all the more determined to find your flaws. Better to be human from day one, so that you could hide the stuff that hurt the most.

“I am very much human. Just because I’m a supersoldier doesn’t mean I don’t need to eat, or that I don’t laugh or cry or fall in love.”

Tony’s heart stuttered at both the word and the tender way that Steve was looking at him. All he could think to say was, “You just love the panties.”

“No, I love you,” Steve murmured. “In panties or out.” 

Shit. Steve had just said that he loved him. Him! Tony Stark! Tony froze, lips parted like he was going to speak but brain drawing a blank. Sure they were taking care of Clint together, and they’d been dating for a while, but he’d never expected – but then, this was Steve they were talking about. He wouldn’t date someone for this long without being in love with them, would he? It made sense, yet at the same time it didn’t. Steve Rogers loved him. _Him_. Panties and all.

“Tony?” Steve’s expression hovered somewhere between amusement and concern now. “You need to breathe, honey.”

“Right,” Tony wheezed, lungs aching. “I –” 

“You don’t need to say it. It’s okay,” Steve said.

“No, I do. I – I love – I – you too,” Tony mumbled. Were it not for Steve’s superior hearing, he probably wouldn’t have heard. But he did hear, and his eyes lit up like someone had flipped on a switch. They spun to a stop and Steve’s hands left their positions in order to cup Tony’s face; Steve kissed him deeply then, tongue sliding past Tony’s lips and making Tony gasp.

“You’re amazing,” Steve said when he pulled out of the kiss, leaving Tony chasing his lips to get more. “I don’t know what I did to have you in my life.”

Tony swallowed and licked his lips, tasting Steve. His heart was thudding behind his ribs. “Guess you just got lucky,” he said breathlessly. 

“I really did. May I dip you?”

“You’re the one leading,” Tony said. He’d never been dipped before. He was giddy as Steve’s hands tightened around his waist and carefully tipped him back, because putting his trust in Steve was the easiest thing he’d ever done. He went limp and allowed Steve to control the pace, winding an arm around Steve’s neck when his upper body was almost horizontal with the floor. Steve’s face was close and Tony took the opportunity to steal another kiss, then trail kisses across Steve’s jaw and down the curve of his neck.

Steve groaned, looking down at him. “Minx,” he repeated fondly. He pulled Tony back up and into his arms and kissed him again. This time his hands slid down until he could grope Tony’s ass, big fingers slowly kneading the cheeks, rubbing the material against Tony’s skin.

It felt good. Really good. The silk and lace were luxuriously soft while also being a reminder of just what he was wearing. He leaned into Steve, rubbing the panties against Steve’s crotch as they kissed. The little huff that Steve let out was one of Tony’s favorite sounds in the world, and he wanted to hear more of it. So he broke the kiss to press his mouth to Steve’s right ear, knowing that Steve liked having his earlobes sucked.

Sure enough, Steve made that sound again, though this time it was accompanied by a guttural growl that made Tony’s knees weak. Steve scooped him up with no warning, gripping the backs of Tony’s thighs. He turned them towards the bed and strode over to it until he could bend at the waist and plunk Tony down on the sheets. It was his turn to hover, not quite touching, while his eyes roamed over Tony’s exposed skin.

Oddly enough, wearing the panties made Tony feel far more vulnerable than being naked would have. But Steve’s obvious arousal helped to diffuse the situation, turning the feelings from uncomfortable to just a bit scary. It helped when he reached up, cupping the back of Steve’s head, and pulled him down for a kiss. Steve came, lips hungry, and then it was like he’d been granted permission because his hands were _everywhere_ , leaving burning trails wherever his fingertips touched.

“I love how you look in these. So beautiful, so sexy. God, Tony. I can’t decide if I want you naked or if I want you to be wearing suits all the time or if you should just live in panties,” Steve said between frantic kisses.

Tony giggled. “That sounds like a problem,” he said coyly. “How about panties under suits?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Steve reared back and stared at him like Tony had just offered him a million dollars. “Would you really?” he whispered. 

“I – maybe?” Tony said, a little uncertain. “I don’t – it’s not really what men do.”

“Fuck, that would _kill me_ ,” Steve said, obviously ignoring the latter part of what Tony had said. “You’re so gorgeous in your suits… they fit you like a glove and emphasize all your best assets…” He squeezed Tony’s ass again. “But to imagine you in panties underneath… my god.”

Tony was flushed again from that feeling of wanting mingled with shame. “You could… you could make me do it,” he said, eyes half-lidded. “Order me.”

Steve groaned low in his throat. “I could. I could order you to wear panties… skirts… jewelry…” He backed off, drawing his hands down Tony’s legs until he’d reached Tony’s foot. He kissed the heel, then turned a dark, predatory look Tony. “I could order you to wear heels, sweetheart. Then you’d finally be as tall as you want to be.”

“Jerk,” Tony muttered, but he couldn’t deny that a part of him wanted that. And not just in a sexual way, either. He could so easily envision coming home from work and changing into a pretty sundress and heels and then going out for dinner on Steve’s arm. It was the sort of picture that he’d always tried to push aside or ignore, but which was now there, seared into his brain in such vivid detail that he’d never be able get rid of it.

Steve’s smile was full of mischief, as though he knew exactly what was going through Tony’s mind. “Perhaps I will,” he purred. “You would look beautiful in heels.” He kissed Tony’s foot again, then began kissing his way up Tony’s leg. He reached the sensitive inner skin of Tony’s right left and lingered though, sucking and nibbling until Tony was squirming. There would be a bruise there later, Tony was sure, and every time Steve saw it he’d beam like an idiot. Somehow, Tony couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.

“Stop teasing me,” he whined.

“I’m the one meant to be giving orders, not you,” Steve said, giving his thigh one last kiss. But he was merciful, pressing a kiss to Tony’s silk-covered cock before sliding up the bed to kiss Tony’s mouth. They ground against each other while they made out, letting the friction of the silk and the occasional hint of lace do the work for them. It was heavenly: Tony was lost in the sensation of Steve’s lips and hands and body, Steve’s weight pressing him down into the bed, Steve’s cologne filling his nose, Steve’s back underneath his hands.

Steve came first, with a stifled grunt that may have been Tony’s name, and leaned against him for a moment. Tony petted his neck, still on edge, but willing to wait until Steve caught his breath. This time that sigh was _definitely_ Tony’s name as Steve turned his head, all soft and warm and pliant, and slid a hand into the panties to finish Tony off.

In the end, it wasn’t Steve’s hand that did it. It was Steve kissing his neck and whispering, “I love you.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Tony. Tony, baby, wake up.”

Tony grunted a protest, wanting nothing more than to roll over and fall straight back asleep. He heard Steve sigh somewhere behind him before light kisses started being pressed to Tony’s neck, jaw, cheek, and temple. The more he tried to hide himself in the blankets, the more kisses Steve peppered over his face until finally, Tony was laughing too much to even pretend that he was sleeping. 

“Okay, okay! I give!” Tony said, grabbing Steve’s face and pushing it away. He rolled onto his back and looked up at his boyfriend. In between his fingers, he could see that Steve’s grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Ha, I knew you were awake,” Steve said smugly.

“I think anyone would be hardpressed to sleep through that, you dork,” Tony replied. “What’s going on?” He couldn’t hear the Avengers alarm, which was loud enough to wake the dead, and Steve was so fixed on making Tony get more sleep that he knew Steve had to have a good reason for having woken him.

“Pepper’s here. She said something about a meeting with –”

“With Wayne, _shit_.” Suddenly fully awake, Tony scrambled out of bed, nearly kicking Steve in the face, and dashed for the shower. He winced when he caught sight of the clock and realized that it was almost 9:00. No wonder Pepper had shown up to collect him. 

There was no time for a slow, romantic shower. He scrubbed himself as quickly as he could and then leapt out. It was a good thing that he had his bathroom routine down to a science: when he had the time, he made it last. When he didn’t, Tony could be ready in less than fifteen minutes. With twelve minutes to go he lunged for the door, mind running through the easiest outfit to grab and pull on.

He stopped short upon emerging into the bedroom. The bed had been made in his absence, and an outfit was laying out on it. Tony recognized one of his favorite outfits, a tailored grey jacket and pants with a red shirt and a darker grey tie, and knew that Steve had to have picked it out for him to save him some time. God, Tony really was dating the sweetest man in the galaxy. He resolved to give Steve some extra thanks tonight as he moved closer to the bed.

Then he saw the panties.

His mouth went dry as he reached out to pick them up. They were clearly made for men and cut in a similar fashion to the black pair, but these weren’t made from silk. He didn’t know what the fabric was, but he did know that they were indescribably soft against his fingertips. The red color was a perfect match for the red dress shirt that Steve had picked out, with a little grey bow on the front that matched the suit. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Just how many pairs of panties did Steve have hidden away?

“Wear them,” Steve said from behind him, and Tony jumped.

“Jesus! How the hell do you move so quietly?” he demanded, spinning to face his boyfriend.

Steve simply smiled. “I want you to wear them,” he repeated, each word deliberate and heavy with meaning, and a chill ran down Tony’s spine as he remembered their conversation during sex the night before: Steve wanting to see him in panties under the suit, offering to order Tony into panties and heels and dresses and jewelry.

Shit, Tony was in so much trouble.

“I – okay,” he gulped, because a dozen excuses had run through his head but they all paled to the desire written across Steve’s face. “But… you have to leave.”

“What? Why?” Steve frowned.

“Because I want you to imagine me wearing them all day, and look forward to stripping my suit off when I get home,” Tony said, inspired. The thought of wearing panties beneath his suit made his hands clammy, and he couldn’t decide if the butterflies in his stomach were from want or nerves or shame. But knowing that Steve was looking forward to seeing him in them would help. At the very least, it would keep him from ducking into a bathroom and taking them off and just going commando.

Steve pouted, but nodded. “Fine. Hurry up, you’ve only got thirty seconds.”

“Damn it!” Tony yelped. As soon as the door was shut, he hastily pulled the panties on and adjusted his dick and balls. The fabric felt amazing, but he had no time to enjoy it. He slid on his pants, socks, undershirt, shirt and jacket and paused just long enough to examine himself in the mirror. The suit’s pants were made from a high quality, thick fabric, so he couldn’t discern so much as a hint of red.

“Tony!” Steve called.

Right. Pepper. Tony raced out the door and into the elevator, which took him straight down to meet Pepper. One look at her annoyed expression had Tony offering her a sheepish smile as they hustled downstairs. As per usual, she didn’t want to hear any excuses. That was fair; this time, Tony had no excuses. He didn’t think Pepper would accept sleeping in as a result of kinky sex as a reasonable excuse anyway.

For the first portion of his day, Tony didn’t even think about the panties. He couldn’t. He and Pepper were immediately pulled into a very long set of meetings that required all of his attention. It was only later, when the company offered to give them a tour, that he remembered, and then only because of the odd way the fabric of the panties slipped against his pants. He froze for a moment as he stood, and Pepper looked at him strangely.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Do you need a minute?”

Tony hastily shook his head. He felt like she could see exactly what was wrong – like _everyone_ could see, and were judging. But that was stupid, wasn’t it? He said, “No, I just got a bit of a head rush. I haven’t eaten yet this morning.”

Pepper sighed. “Of course you haven’t. Well, they’ve promised lunch will be part of the tour. Here, lean on me.” She slid her arm through his and helped to steady him. Tony noticed the range of speculative looks being cast in their direction and mentally rolled his eyes. He’d have to warn Steve that tomorrow morning, the papers were going to be filled with rumors about him and Pepper getting back together again.

“Thanks Pep,” he said, meaning it. Having Pepper beside him helped. She didn’t know (couldn’t know) but Tony knew she would stand beside him even if she did. Wearing panties was far from the weirdest thing Pepper had caught him doing. She probably wouldn’t even blink.

She smiled at him and they walked arm in arm down the hall, following their host. Having some lunch helped, as did the tour. Tony found himself genuinely fascinated and, when he and Pepper retreated to talk things over in private, told her that he was interested in backing the company. Pepper was on the same page, which was good – but it also meant a whole afternoon and part of the night spent of hashing things out, talking to their lawyers, returning to the boardroom to talk more with the company, then doing _more_ talking with lawyers, and then finally leaving things to be drawn up into some kind of a reasonable contract.

Needless to say, Tony was exhausted when he and Pepper left. His head ached faintly. Pepper looked similarly tired, her eyes practically crossed as she peered down at her phone. She glanced up, catching his eyes, and said, “The Tokyo division would like you to come visit. How does a week from tomorrow work?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tony said. She wasn’t his personal assistant anymore, but somehow she’d never really lost the habit of taking care of his schedule. And he wasn’t about to complain: Pepper was a master at it. 

“Good. They’d like your eye on some of their designs,” Pepper said absently, making a note. “I also thought that we should stop at the Australian division on the way back. They’re having an issue with P.R. recently. We have some new competitors in that market and the stock isn’t doing as well. A few public appearances from Tony Stark might be enough to combat some of that.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” Tony told her through a yawn. He didn’t relish the thought of being away from Steve and Clint, but that was the nature of his job and it wasn’t something he could escape. He wasn’t the CEO anymore, but Stark Industries still depended on the Stark name – and according to Pepper, offering to let her change her name to Virginia Stark just wouldn’t cut it, apparently.

“If only I could believe that,” Pepper said with a faint smirk. 

“I’m wounded! I am always your loyal servant,” Tony said, dramatically clutching at his chest.

Pepper laughed. “I think Steve would have a problem with you being my loyal servant.”

“Nah, Steve knows it comes with the territory,” Tony said, winking at her. She snorted at him. He grinned. Fiesty Pepper was his favorite Pepper.

“I don’t need you to be a loyal servant,” she said. “I just need you to show up to the airport on time. I’ve updated JARVIS with the tentative schedule.”

The car pulled up in front of the tower. Tony got out, surprised but pleased when Pepper followed. He said, “Are you coming too?”

“Yes, I will be. Someone’s got to make sure that you behave in front of the press,” she said with a playful smile, walking into the elevator. 

“I’ll have you know I can play the press like a fiddle,” Tony said. It was the truth. After growing up in the limelight, his choices had been to learn to handle the pressure and the media or crumble under the onslaught. Being an Avenger certainly hadn’t changed that. After all the press releases he’d done, facing some easy questions about Stark Industries would be a breeze.

“I know you can. The problem is that some of them can play you too,” Pepper said as the doors slid open.

“Who can play Tony?” Natasha asked, half-sitting up from where she was sprawled on the couch. Darcy was in the chair, sitting so that her head was upside down. Her long brown hair nearly touched the floor.

“The public. Is that a – oh god, thank you,” Pepper said, taking the frosted glass that Natasha handed her. She downed half the cocktail in one gulp, then let out a long, obscene groan and pressed the rim to her forehead like she was trying to absorb the alcohol through pure osmosis.

“We’re having a girl’s night,” Darcy piped up, wiggling one slippered foot in greeting.

“Sounds lovely,” Tony said. He was wondering where Steve and Clint were when Natasha held out another cocktail. Tony took it without thinking, then paused.

“Clint was having a big headspace night, so Steve and Bruce took him out for supper. Jane and Thor are that sound you hear,” Natasha said before he could ask.

Tony blinked, then cocked his head. Sure enough, he could faintly hear a loud banging coupled with the unmistakable sound of Thor grunting. He screwed up his face. “I put thousands of dollars into the soundproofing! And they better not break their bed again!”

“Jane got a grant. She was psyched. They’re especially motivated tonight,” Darcy explained.

“Ugh,” Tony grumbled, taking a gulp of the cocktail. It tasted like pineapple. “I guess I should retreat to my workshop then. I really don’t need a front show seat.” Especially without Steve here.

“Darcy said we’re having a girl’s night. Sit,” Natasha said, sitting up and patting the couch.

“I’m not a girl,” Tony felt the need to point out.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did I ask if you were a girl? I said _sit_!”

Tony sat before he could really think about it. Pepper and Darcy giggled. He frowned at them, but made no move to get up again. He supposed his first line of defense should’ve been ‘I’m a guy’, not ‘I’m not a girl’. But lately… well, sometimes he wasn’t so sure that the former was any more true than the latter. He just didn’t know anymore. So he stayed quiet and sipped at his cocktail.

“I have bathrobes for both of you,” Natasha said. “You can change into something more comfortable. Then we’re going to paint each other’s nails and maybe do face masks.”

“No nails,” Tony said, pointing at her.

“Toe nails,” she countered. “You never wear sandals.”

Darcy’s eyes lit up. “I learned how to do nail art recently. I could paint tiny arc reactors!”

Tony opened his mouth, then paused. “In blue?”

“On a black background,” Darcy said. “That would look so cool! I could even do your hands, if you’d let me. Think of how crazy Steve would go if you had his shield on your nails.” She grinned impishly.

It was a convincing argument. The thought of Steve’s face sealed it. Tony nodded. “Deal,” he said, and got up to change into a bathrobe.


	14. Chapter 14

Steve wouldn’t be seeing him in a suit today, but, Tony thought idly as he examined his new toenails, he figured Steve wouldn’t mind that much. Not when he saw how frankly awesome Tony’s feet now looked. Darcy had done an amazing job; she was a wizard with a nail brush, using all her skills to create Iron Man theme nails. One toe did have the arc reactor as promised, but the others were variations on the armor and the reactor. He loved it. He was never taking it off.

“You missed your calling,” Tony told her seriously, and Darcy giggled. She straightened up from where she was working on his left hand and stretched, rubbing the back of her neck.

“It’s fun, but I wouldn’t like to do it all the time,” she said. “Besides, if I did it for a job, I’d be charging you hundreds of dollars right now.”

“I’d pay you whatever you wanted,” Tony said.

“Dangerous words!” Pepper called out. She was reclining in a chair so that Natasha apply a face mask to her face. Pepper couldn’t see due to the cucumber slices covering her eyes, but Tony had the sense that she would’ve been glaring at him if she could’ve.

As though to prove him right, Natasha hissed, “Stop frowning! I need to spread this evenly!”

“Anything,” Tony mouthed at Darcy, which got him another giggle. Darcy winked back at him and reached out to grab what was left of her cocktail. 

“By the way,” she said casually, “nice panties.”

Tony choked a little on his own saliva. “W-what?”

“Sorry, but you’re wearing a bathrobe and I could see right up it when I was working on your feet.” Darcy shrugged shamelessly. Natasha looked over at him and grinned. When Tony caught her eye, she winked at him. He blushed and looked away.

“And it never occurred to you to tell me so I could adjust?” he said. His face felt hot. He pulled uselessly at the bathrobe, even though it was too late. She’d already seen.

She looked at him in mock horror. “And restrict my view of Playdude’s Best Ass of the Year for six years running?”

“… It is a pretty great ass,” Tony admitted begrudgingly, frowning at her. She smiled back, all innocence, and then lowered her head so she could keep working on his nails. Tony kept watching her for a moment longer, half-expecting her to add a comment about how a man wearing panties was weird. But she didn’t, and neither did Pepper or Natasha. The next thing out of Natasha’s mouth was another admonishment for Pepper to stop moving.

Tony fell quiet, thinking. Much of his childhood memories of Howard involved his father trying to make Tony into “more of a man”. Taking away his stuffed toys at age three. The glass of whiskey at age six. Sending him to boarding school at age ten. Tearing a strip off him for wearing a t-shirt with a rainbow on it at age thirteen. The list went on. He had more than one memory of Howard screaming at him in a drunken rage, demanding to know why he had such a useless pansy for a son.

Much as Tony hated to admit it, maybe Howard had seen something that no one else had. He just wasn't sure what that might be, or how you would logically define it. He'd done some research over the years, learning about sexuality and gender. It was pretty hard not to when you were in the eye of the public; sometimes reporters liked to ask him out-of-the-blue questions just to see if they could get a juicy soundbite. Tony never wanted to be that person who got stuck asking what asexuality was on camera. It was just awkward, and having to ask meant handing the power over to the reporter. The press lived for that kind of stuff.

So yeah, he thought he knew his stuff for the most part. But _how_ it applied to _him_... well, that was a whole different question entirely. Did it go beyond wearing panties and letting Clint call him Mama, or was that it?

"Annnnnd done!" Darcy chirped, capping the bottle of red nail polish.

Blinking, Tony looked down at his nails. "Great job," he said sincerely. She'd been limited because his nails weren't very long, but what she'd done in the space she had to work with was impressive. 

"I know," Darcy said. "Anyone up for more cocktails?" She gathered their glasses after a chorus of agreement, then pointed a warning finger in Tony's face. "Don't you dare touch your phone until your nails dry. If you mess up that art before I can take a picture for my blog, I will murder you so hard they'll never find your body."

"Noted," Tony said, stopping his reflexive reach for his phone. Darcy was scarier than some of the supervillains they'd faced. He obediently dropped his hands back down into his lap, fingers carefully spread so as to give them maximum space for dying. 

"How about a movie?" Natasha said, putting the finishing touches on Pepper's face mask.

"Ooh yes!" Pepper said. "JARVIS, cue up Legally Blonde."

"Really?" Tony said, smiling in spite of himself. 

"Shut up. It's a classic," Pepper retorted.

Tony wasn't even sure why she wanted to watch it - it wasn't like she could see with those cucumber slices - but decided it wasn't worth asking. He turned to the television as JARVIS switched it on. By the time Elle Woods had been dumped by her boyfriend, Darcy was back with four cocktails and a bowl of popcorn. She sank down onto the couch by Tony and leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. She smelled like honeysuckle and jasmine. It was a comforting scent, reminding Tony of days spent in the garden with Ana and his mom, so he didn't protest.

Midway through the movie, Natasha asked JARVIS to pause it so that she and Pepper could wash their face masks off. Darcy examined Tony's nails and deemed them dry, then took several pictures from different angles before she allowed Tony to finally have some of the popcorn that had been driving him crazy with the delicious smell. When Pepper and Natasha returned from the bathroom, they squished onto the couch alongside Tony and Darcy. It was cramped, and Tony definitely ended up with a knee in his ribs, but it was worth it. Especially when Pepper grabbed the blanket that hung over the back of the couch and draped it over them.

The head resting on his shoulder had become considerably heavier by the time Legally Blonde 2 had finished. Tony glanced down, unsurprised to see that Darcy and Pepper were both conked out. He didn't know about Darcy and Natasha, but he and Pepper had been through a long day. He looked over at Natasha, wondering if she was sleeping too, and saw that a pair of catlike green eyes were observing him. Tony raised an eyebrow at her. Natasha merely blinked in response, a calculated turn of her head sending a spray of red curls down one cheek and making her look innocent. Too bad Tony was impervious to that move by now.

"What?" he asked warily.

Natasha shrugged. "I should be asking you that. You looked like you were having some deep thoughts during the movie. I'm not even sure you could tell me the name of Elle's husband. Feel like sharing?"

"No," Tony said, and then, before he could stop himself, "I feel like people keep trying to force me into doing girly things."

She was quiet for a moment before she said, "Nothing that we did tonight should be considered overly girly. We were pampering ourselves. Just because they're activities traditionally done by women doesn't mean there's anything wrong with them."

"I - I know that. I didn't mean it like that." Tony sighed, his breath ruffling Darcy's dark hair. 

"Then what did you mean?" Natasha kept looking at him expectantly.

"I just... I guess I don't get it. What makes Clint call me "Mama". I know he calls Steve "Papa" and "Daddy" is totally out of the question thanks to Coulson, but there are other alternatives. "Pops", "Dad" and "Father" all come to mind." Tony hid a grimace on that last one. He really wouldn't have liked it if Clint called him that because it brought back some unpleasant memories of Howard, but he would've put up with it. "What makes Steve give me all those cutsey nicknames. What makes you guys invite me for girl's nights - and before you say anything, you called it that yourself."

"Well," Natasha said slowly, gathering her thoughts. "Whether you acknowledge it or not, you're the one who worries more about Clint. You tend to his emotional needs rather than the physical ones. And Steve does that too, but he usually has to stop and think about it. You do it naturally. Steve might give him a piggy back ride, but you dole out hugs with that kid like they're dollar bills." She shifted a little, warming to her subject. "As for Steve, I honestly think that's just the way he is. The guy's got seventy-some years of affection all built up inside of him. It was inevitable that it was going to come spilling out sooner or later. It's an easy way of showing affection for you that doesn't require too much focus on his part, and doesn't force him outside of his comfort zone before he's ready."

"And this?" Tony said, not giving anything away.

"You enjoy it," Natasha said bluntly. "You wouldn't have accepted if you didn't."

"I was being ordered to sit by the Black Widow," Tony pointed out.

Natasha snorted. "Tony, I have seen you ignore me when I haven't slept for seventy-three hours and I'm holding a knife. Don't try to pull that 'the Black Widow made me' crap because we both know it's a crock of bullshit. You _can_ like it, you know. You don't have to deny yourself the things you enjoy because they're not traditionally manly things to do."

"My father never thought that way," Tony said quietly.

"Well, your father isn't here," Natasha said. She muttered something that may or may not have been a threat against Howard's general health before adding, "You know how I feel about gender and social constructs. It's all stupid as far as I'm concerned. It shouldn't matter what activities you enjoy, or what clothing you like to wear, or whether you call yourself a man or a woman or agender or non-binbary or genderfluid. We're all people in the end, and frankly our lives are filled with so much fucking upheaval that you should be able to enjoy the downtime however you want without judgment."

Tony swallowed hard, not meeting her eye. It was weird to hear someone say those words out loud. He knew what they meant because of research, but that was all done in the privacy of his own room with only JARVIS for company. Natasha said them so casually, as though one of them wasn't capable of rocking Tony's world to its very foundations.

"That's a nice thought," he murmured. "But not realistic. Not when you live the kind of life I do. I've never had the time or luxury to explore that sort of thing. It's different when it's sleeping with a guy. That's become slightly more acceptable depending on what circles you run in. The other stuff...."

Natasha inclined her head. "That's fair. However, you've never had a team of superheroes living with you before."

"That just means we're under more scrutiny, not less."

"True, but do you even realize how much the press doesn't know about us? You've made this tower a sanctuary. No one knows that Bruce likes yoga, or that Clint loves peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches, or that I like sleeping naked, or that Steve hates spiders. No one knows about Darcy's ridiculous puppy slippers, or Thor's fondness for weird aprons, or Jane's habit of falling asleep wearing make-up. We're all here, living the lives you want. It's time you got the chance to explore that luxury too." She reached over Pepper to lay a hand on Tony's arm. "Let us give you a home, just like you gave all of us a home."

Her words hit home in a way that Tony wasn't expecting. He had to catch his breath before he could respond. "Did anyone ever tell you," he said slowly, "that you're remarkably persuasive?"

She smiled and winked at him. "I may have heard that once or twice."


	15. Chapter 15

"Tony. Tony, darling, wake up."

The quiet sound of Steve's voice tugged at Tony's awareness. Much as he wanted to roll over and just go back to sleep, it was pretty hard to ignore the hand on his shoulder. Steve shook him gently but insistently. Tony gave a low groan and pried his eyes open. He had a headache, which could only be contributed to those damn cocktails that Darcy had been handing out left, right and center. She was proving to be a dangerous person to be around; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been that drunk, but it had been a long time. It was also worth it, because it had been a long time since he'd laughed like that.

"What?" he mumbled finally, realizing that Steve wasn't going to take the hint and give up.

"I'm sorry for waking you, but Fury called me. They need me to come into SHIELD. Something about some tests?"

That woke Tony up. He blinked rapidly and squinted at his boyfriend. "Tests? Why? Are you okay?"

"Shh, baby doll. I'm fine, really. Apparently I broke my own record running on our last mission and they want me to do an endurance test." Steve took one of Tony's hands and went to press a kiss to the knuckle. He froze when he caught sight of Tony's painted nails, eyes going wide with surprise. Tony bit his lip to keep from letting out a sleepy giggle when the surprise gradually gave way to desire.

"Sorry, handsome. You have somewhere to be," he teased softly, recognizing that look. The naked proof that Steve wanted this, wanted _him_ , made butterflies flutter in Tony's stomach. He didn't think it would ever get old.

"Stupid Fury," Steve grumbled, finally pressing that kiss to back of Tony's hand. "All I want is to throw you over my shoulder and whisk you away so that I can have my wicked way with you."

"How caveman of you," Tony said wryly, sitting up. He looked around the living room. Darcy was sprawled out on the floor in a position that could not be comfortable, sound asleep and snoring like a freight train. Pepper was curled up in the chair, face hidden behind a curtain of bright red hair. Natasha had the other couch to herself. Tony couldn't see her face, but he knew Natasha well enough to know that she was definitely awake. There was no way that Steve would've gotten more than two steps into the living room without her knowing about it.

"Some days I can fight my baser instincts better than others. This is not one of those days." Steve leaned in for a kiss. Tony put a hand over his mouth to stop him. He ignored the following whine, pretending that Steve's desire to kiss him didn't make his heart do flip flops.

"Seriously. You start that, you're going to be late," Tony said, pushing Steve away. It hurt his soul to do it, but sometimes Steve had a surprisingly one-track mind and if they started kissing now they would't stop. And while part of Tony was definitely on board with that, he was well aware that things were still rocky between the Avengers and SHIELD; none of them had taken SHIELD's decision to bench Clint without first talking to anyone else that well. Tony would never forget the utter _panic_ that had been on Clint's face. But he also knew that they couldn't afford to alienate SHIELD entirely. It was handy having Fury standing between the Avengers and the WSC. 

"Fine," Steve sighed, pulling away. "Deprive me."

"You're hardly deprived," Tony said with a laugh. "But how about this?" He stood, swaying slightly, and leaned into his boyfriend. "If you make nice with Fury today, I promise to make nice in whatever you want later tonight."

Heat flashed into Steve's eyes, followed by a calculating look. "Seriously? Even if what I want is a sexy negligee?"

Tony blushed. He supposed he should've seen that coming. "Even then."

"I'll be the nicest boy ever," Steve said, licking his lips.

"You do that," Tony said, giving him a sultry smile, and slapped Steve's butt. "Now get going."

Steve muttered something but obeyed, strutting out of the room with a swing of the hips that made his ass look amazing. It was totally on purpose, and Tony wasn't as unaffected as he would've liked to have been. Then again, he would challenge anyone to be faced with a sexy supersoldier and not react in some way. 

"You're gonna kill him," Natasha stage whispered.

"But what a way to go," Tony said, winking at her. He heard her snort and smiled to himself as he followed Steve out. But instead of heading towards the garage, Tony turned left. He took the stairs up to Steve's floor, knowing that the whole reason Steve had actually woken him up was so that he could go keep Clint company. Technically JARVIS was more than capable of babysitting, but neither he nor Steve liked leaving Clint alone if they could avoid it. Besides, Steve had probably done him a favor: Tony was long past the age where he could sleep on a couch without any repercussions. He rubbed absently at his neck as he stepped out into the kitchen.

Everything was quiet. Tony crept silently down the hall and nudged Clint's door open. His heart warmed at the sight of Clint in bed, arms wrapped around his teddy bear, thumb tucked into his mouth. His mobile was playing softly, bathing the room in a pale red light. On Clint's nightstand, right in Clint's line of sight if he were to open his eyes, was the globe that Thor had given him. The mist inside of it was glowing a steady golden color, proof that Loki was still safely imprisoned on Asgard. The sight of it was comforting even to Tony, who didn't relish the thought of ever seeing Loki again no matter what Thor said.

He closed the door again and muffled a yawn as he walked towards his bedroom. He was looking forward to at least another four or five hours of sleep, depending on how late Clint slept. He shed the robe that Natasha had given him, pulled on a pair of pajamas, and crawled into bed. It still smelled like Steve, and Tony shamelessly pushed his nose into the pillows and inhaled deeply. There was something about the scent of Steve's cologne that was really comforting, even if he'd never say as much. He closed his eyes and didn't even remember drifting off again.

Some time later Tony jerked upright, blinking in disorientation, just in time to hear JARVIS say, “Sir, Clint is calling for you.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Tony mumbled, already fumbling his way out of the bed. His head felt thick and his throat was dry. He grabbed the robe and pulled it on, stumbling towards the door; he swore softly when he stubbed his foot against the door frame on the way out.

“I believe he’s had a nightmare,” JARVIS said, and shit. Tony hurried down the hall. As he grew closer, he could hear the sound of quiet sobs. He pushed the door open fully and snapped on the overhead light. Clint jerked in surprise and stared at him with wide, rounded eyes. 

“Pumpkin, what’s wrong?” Tony said.

“B-bad!” Clint cried, holding his arms out.

Tony rushed to the bed, ready to give him a hug. He wasn’t expecting Clint to clamber up and try to jump into his arms, and nearly dropped the kid as a result – he was stronger than your average guy because of the work he did in the workshop and as Iron Man, but he couldn’t lift 200lbs without blinking an eye like Steve could. He ended up sinking down onto the bed with a surprised huff, lap full of a sweaty, snotty, sleep-warm toddler.

“Clint, it’s okay,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Clint and hugging him tightly. “JARVIS, turn up the volume on his mobile, would you?”

The music immediately got louder. Tony didn’t recognize the tune, but it was soothing violin music. He felt Clint shudder against him suddenly and realized that, when Clint jumped at him, his robe had slid down to reveal the light of the arc reactor. Hastily, Tony shifted him and adjusted his robe until the blue light was covered. That caught Clint’s attention, and he lifted his head and peered up at Tony through teary eyes as he shuddered again.

“Dreamt you were gone,” Clint said, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks. “Dreamt you ‘n’ Papa left me ‘lone.”

Tony blinked at that, surprised. Usually Clint’s nightmares were about Loki or, more rarely, Coulson dying or other traumatizing SHIELD missions. He rallied quickly, planting a kiss on Clint’s forehead. “I’m here, munchkin. Papa had to go to SHIELD, but he’ll be home later tonight.”

“You were _gone_ ,” Clint repeated emphatically.

“We’d never leave you,” Tony murmured, wondering what had prompted this dream. Had Clint seen or heard Steve leaving? “Why don’t you come sleep with me tonight? Then you’ll know I’m here.”

Clint considered that for a moment before nodding, sucking in a shaky breath. Tony ran a hand through Clint’s hair and stood, moving slowly and carefully. He wasn’t prepared for Clint to lift his arms up in an obvious demand to be picked up, though he probably should’ve been considering what had happened two minutes ago. He stared down at the kid, uncertain.

“Up,” Clint demanded when Tony failed to react.

“Clint, I… I can’t. I’m not strong enough,” Tony said, feeling a surge of guilt when Clint’s face crumbled. He wanted nothing more than to scoop Clint up into a hug like Steve did, but dropping the kid wasn’t going to help matters and that’s what would inevitably happen.

He looked away, feeling like the worst kind of parent, and wrapped the robe over his chest more tightly. It was bad enough that the light of the arc reactor scared Clint so much. Now Tony couldn’t even offer him the kind of comfort Clint was desperate for. What good was he? 

A damp sniffle drew his attention back to Clint, and Tony sighed. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.” He held out a hand, which Clint took slowly. “Bring your teddy bear. I’ll get your globe.”

He picked up the globe with his free hand, watching to be sure that Clint took his teddy bear, before he led Clint out of the room. JARVIS switched the mobile off as they left the room, leaving them in silence broken only by their shuffling footsteps and Clint’s sniffs. They entered the bedroom and Tony pushed the door shut behind them. He guided Clint over to the bed and pulled the covers back, letting Clint climb in first. Then he quickly slid the robe off and slipped in, hiding the light with the sheets.

“There we go,” he whispered, pulling Clint into a loose hug. 

“T’anks, Mama,” Clint mumbled.

And Tony, in sudden fit of curiosity, said, “Clint, why do you call me Mama? Why not… I don’t know, Dad?”

Clint rolled over to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. They stared at each other for a long moment. 

“You make me feel safe,” Clint said finally, rubbing at one of his eyes. He was no longer crying.

“Safe? Even though I’m not nearly as strong as Steve?” Tony said skeptically.

“Not that kinda safe,” Clint said with a shake of his head and a yawn. He blinked at Tony, not quite in his headspace, but not quite out of it either. “When I was a kid, my mom was the one who held us together. She got my dad going in the morning, and she dealt with him at night, and she was responsible for Barney ‘n’ me. She took everythin’ on her shoulders. Without her, none of would’a had a purpose. She was the center of everything. Like you.”

“I… I’m not the center of everything,” Tony said, a little baffled. Was that an insult to his ego or a compliment?

Clint smiled sleepily. “Yeah, you are. You made us a family. The Avengers, I mean. You think Steve would’ve taken me in alone?”

“I don’t know that I would have, either,” Tony pointed out.

“But you’re why Steve tried,” Clint said. He yawned again and nuzzled closer. “I’d’a been ‘lone otherwise. I don’t wanna be ‘lone, Mama.” His eyelashes fluttered and he sighed, going limp.

“You’re not alone, honey,” Tony murmured, hugging him again. Natasha and Clint had definitely given him something to think about tonight, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Clint was heavy and sleepy in his arms and Tony’s eyes swiftly fell shut.


	16. Chapter 16

“Mama? Mama, I’m hungry.”

It was the finger poking him in the nose that woke Tony more than anything else. His body was begging him to go back to sleep, but he knew better than to think that Clint would let that happen. Some mornings Clint liked to sleep in and then languish in bed for hours, and other mornings he was wide awake the second his eyes opened. Apparently this morning was one of the latter.

With effort, Tony dragged his eyes open and focused on the smiling toddler above him. Clint’s hair was sticking up in clumps all over his head, and he was in desperate need of a shave. He also had morning breath and sticky fingers. Tony wrinkled his nose and grabbed the fingers that were heading towards his face, rolling onto his back to better avoid them. 

“You’re hungry,” Tony said with a yawn. “What, you mean I have to feed you?”

Clint giggled. “Yes!”

“Ugh, so much effort.” Tony mock-sighed, suddenly realizing that the sheet had slipped down. The cool blue glow of the arc reactor was visible. He grabbed the sheet and yanked it back up to cover it, not even noticing that Clint was watching him until a quiet voice spoke.

“Why d’you do that?”

Tony frowned. “Do what?”

“You hide the reactor from me.” Clint looked down, twisting his fingers together self-consciously. “Do you… I wouldn’t steal it.”

“What?” Tony gasped, shocked. “Of course you wouldn’t!” He couldn’t believe that thought had entered Clint’s mind. Tony was nervous with just about anyone touching the arc reactor, even Steve or Pepper or Rhodey. But he’d long-since grown used to having it be visible when the team or his friends were around. Bruce had stared a lot at first, but only because he was consumed with scientific curiosity about how the arc reactor worked. No one else had made a big deal of it, or even paid it much attention. 

But Clint was so scared of blue light. That was the color of the magic that had come from Loki’s scepter after all, and, whenever Clint had a nightmare about the time he was possessed, he always woke up screaming about blue light. That was why Tony had gotten him a mobile that shone with a _red_ light instead, and taken pains to hide the light that shone from the reactor. 

The last thing he wanted was to remind Clint of Loki.

“Then why?” Clint asked in a tiny voice. This had clearly been bothering him for a long time. Tony felt awful. He sat up and took Clint’s hand, not caring about the stickiness. This was too important.

“Baby, it’s not because I don’t trust you. You and Steve are my everything, you know that. I just don’t want to scare you. I know how much blue light bothers you. You couldn’t even be in that clothing store with the blue lasers.” Tony sighed for real this time, remembering that day. He’d gotten a panicked phone call from Steve and had had to leave an important meeting to go pick them up. Clint had been inconsolable for a good hour.

“The arc reactor doesn’t scare me,” Clint argued.

“You don’t have to say that, Clint. I’m not upset about it.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. But Tony wasn’t going to share that with Clint. “Triggers are hard things to deal with. Blue light happens to be one of yours. It’s fine. In fact, when I get some time this weekend I was thinking about creating clip-on filters that could change the color the light gives off. What do you think about –”

“It really doesn’t scare me!” Clint said forcefully, letting go of Tony’s hands to pull the sheet down. “I – I like it. It’s not cold, like Loki’s magic. The arc reactor is warm. Like the sky or the ocean or Papa’s eyes when he looks at you. It’s _comforting_. It reminds me that _you’re_ here, and that means I’m safe.”

Tony was silent, his mouth hanging open. He stared at Clint, unsure of how to respond to that. For weeks now, he’d been feeling guilty about the arc reactor. He couldn’t count how many times he’d hung back after Clint had a nightmare because he’d forgotten to pull on a sweater or a robe before running into Clint’s room, and he was worried the blue light would scare Clint further. 

“Are… are you sure?” Tony said, baffled. “Because it would be okay if –”

“I’m totally sure,” Clint interrupted again. “Please don’t hide it from me anymore.”

“I… okay. I won’t,” Tony said.

“Good,” Clint said firmly. 

There was a moment of silence that Tony wasn’t sure how to break. His thoughts were spinning with this unexpected revelation, but then Clint’s stomach growled. They both looked at his belly and Clint giggled, clasping his hands over his midsection and grinning at Tony. Remembering why Clint had woken him up in the first place, Tony smiled and gave him a gentle bop on the nose.

“How about some breakfast?” he suggested.

“Cupcakes?”

“I don’t think Papa would approve of that as a breakfast food,” Tony said. He hesitated, then added, “But… maybe we can bake some afterwards?” 

“Yes!” Clint said, eyes lighting up, and Tony relaxed. 

“Great. Do you need my help getting dressed?”

“No, I can do it.” Clint clambered off the bed and scampered out of the room. Tony got up too, and was just starting to think about what he might wear for a lazy day at home when suddenly Clint shot back into the room and threw his arms around Tony. Tony staggered, surprised by the force of the hug.

“Clint, what –”

“Thank you, Mama,” Clint whispered, voice a little shaky. “Thank you for everything. You and Papa make me happy. Happier than I thought I could be in a long time. I know I’m not easy, but you… you never give up an’ I…” He gulped. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” Tony said softly. His arms were pinned at his sides so he couldn’t hug Clint back, so he patted Clint’s hand where he could reach. It really only hit him then that the lingering fear that Clint might decide that he wanted to go back to Coulson wasn’t going to happen, and it was surprise to find out how much of a relief that was. Tony liked their new life, and his little family, and he didn’t want anything to disrupt it.

Clint let go and was gone as quickly as he’d come, racing back through the door. Tony smiled to himself and moved over to the closet. It didn’t take much effort to decide on an old tank top that was worn to the point of perfect softness and a pair of sweatpants. What took much longer was figuring out whether he wanted to wear a pair of panties or a pair of boxers.

After much deliberation, he crept into Steve’s room and surveyed it. Steve was fairly neat, all things considered, and it seemed unlikely he would’ve kept the panties balled up in store bags. He walked over to Steve’s dresser and knelt, opening the bottom drawer. A slow flush crept up his face when he saw the neatly folded stacks of panties tucked in beside Steve’s own boxers. There were so many colors and cuts and styles, more than Tony could’ve imagined. This had to have taken Steve a while to purchase.

He lifted his hand, gently ghosting his fingers across the fabrics. Was this just a fetish for Steve? But no, Tony didn’t think so. A fetish didn’t explain the casual ease with which Steve called him ‘honey’ or ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, or how he didn’t blink an eye at Clint calling Tony ‘Mama’, or the little things Steve did – the bubble bath, a hand to Tony’s lower back at odd times, offering his arm when they walked together. This, Tony thought, was proof that Steve had seen into the very depths of Tony Stark and _understood_ the truth of who he was, long before Tony had been willing to face and admit that truth to himself.

Momentarily overwhelmed, he had to take a couple of deep breaths before he could select a pair of panties to wear. He chose a blue, cotton brief-style pair with purple lace around the legs. He quickly slid them on, hauled his sweatpants on overtop, and then stole a sweatshirt from Steve’s closet. His clothing was too big for Tony, but he loved wearing Steve’s stuff.

“Sir,” JARVIS said, and Tony started. He pulled the hem of the sweatshirt down from around his mouth and nose and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” he said, trying to act like he hadn’t just been smelling Steve’s shirt. He could just make out a trace of the cologne Steve favored, which was more comforting than he wanted to admit.

“Captain Rogers asked me to let you know that he met up with some friends at SHIELD and has gone out for lunch with them. He won’t be home for a while.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks J.” Tony smoothed the sweatshirt down and left the room, figuring he’d find out what the kid was up to. He found Clint in his room agonizing over which outfit he wanted to wear. After helping Clint to change out of his pull-up, Tony talked him into purple pants and a bright red shirt with a picture of the Hulk on the front of it. If nothing else, the shirt would make Bruce blush.

“What do you want for breakfast, kiddo?” Tony asked as they entered the kitchen. “And don’t say cupcakes.”

Clint grinned. “Frosting?”

“Imp.” Rolling his eyes, Tony opened the refrigerator to scan the contents. “Hmm… how about toast? And eggs? I can do scrambled eggs with cheese.”

“Sure,” Clint chirped, sitting down at the table. Tony poured a glass of milk and gave it to him to tide Clint over, then rolling up the sleeves of the sweatshirt and set to making breakfast.

It didn’t take very long, and shortly he was setting a plate on the table. “Eat up. Baking on an empty stomach is dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Clint repeated, looking a little worried, because even in his little headspace he still had the tendency to think like a SHIELD agent, and he was no doubt trying to figure out the potential dangers of baking while hungry.

Tony winked at him. “Dangerous because then all the icing goes in your tummy, not on the cupcakes where it belongs,” he said. 

“Oooh.” A smile spread across Clint’s face and he kicked his heels. “I can’t wait to bake something, Mama! I’ve always wanted to, but when I was a kid my parents never had the money for that kind of stuff. Sometimes my mom would buy a cake from the store, but that’s not the same. And I never knew how to do it on my own; plus I never really had the time or the space when I was working… They won’t let agents cook in the SHIELD kitchens. I…” He trailed off suddenly, frowning.

“You what?” Tony prompted gently, scooping up a forkful of cheesy eggs.

“I asked Daddy if we could once. He said yes, but we never did,” Clint said, very quietly. He wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes, instead scraping his fork over the plate. Tony’s heart went out to him.Whether from distinerest or lack of time, Coulson had broken a lot of promises. Tony knew all about that. He could count on two hands the number of times that Howard had actually kept a promise he’d made. Eventually, Tony had stopped believing in those promises at all.

“Well, that’s not going to happen today. We have the whole day to spend together and we can bake whatever you want,” Tony declared. “Cupcakes? Cookies? A pie? I’m no baker, but Ana used to let me help her out in the kitchen. I think we can figure it out.”

“Cookies?” Clint said, peeking up at him. “ _And_ a pie?”

That was a tall order, but Tony was determined to make it happen. He’d baked cookies before with Rhodey’s family, but never a pie. Nevertheless, he nodded. “What kind of pie?”

“Apple?”

“An apple pie it is,” Tony said, wondering how they’d come from boxed cupcakes to cookies and a pie. He had the feeling it was going to be a long day.


	17. Chapter 17

Step one was to figure out what they needed and whether or not they had it. Tony liked up a pie recipe and saw that while Steve's kitchen was fairly well stocked, they were still missing a few things. JARVIS was able to place an order with the nearest grocer, for delivery within the next two hours. In the meantime, Tony decided that they would start off with the cookies (arguably the easier of the two) and go from there.

"Okay, scamp. Aprons for both of us. Any idea where Steve keeps those?" Tony asked. Clint shook his head, looking as clueless as Tony felt, and Tony tried not to sigh as he looked around the huge kitchen.

"If I may, Sir," JARVIS interjected. "Captain Rogers keeps his aprons in the linen closet."

"Thanks J," Tony said, walking out of the kitchen. He headed for the aforementioned closet and pulled the door open. An array of neatly folded sheets, pillowcases, hand towels, face cloths and towels stared back at him. At the bottom of the closet, he caught a glimpse of something far more colorful and stooped down. He grinned in triumph and, after riffling quickly through what was a surprisingly large stack, grabbed a couple of the aprons, avoiding the dark blue one that he'd seen Steve wear while cooking.

He went back to the kitchen and dumped the two aprons on the table, smiling at Clint's delighted squeak. One of the aprons had to have been bought with Clint in mind. It was bright purple and patterned with a bunch of rainbow arrows in various shapes and sizes. Emblazoned across the chest in big block letters were the words 'WORLD'S BEST HELPER' in black lettering. Clint grabbed it and pulled it around his neck.

That left the other one for Tony, which had, more than likely, also been bought with a purpose. Tony couldn't imagine Steve wearing a bright pink apron that had paler pink lace around the edges. It looked like a novelty apron, not the kind that you were seriously meant to wear in the kitchen, and Tony figured Steve had bought it more as a tease than anything. All the more reason to wear it, as far as Tony was concerned.

He slid the straps around his neck and then tied the apron shut behind him. Clint was fumbling with his, trying to tie it behind his back. Biting back a laugh, Tony stepped around behind him and gently swatted Clint's hands away. He tied the apron's string into a big, rainbow-colored bow and then stepped back. They both looked ridiculous, but at least they could be sure their clothes would survive this relatively intact.

"Okay," Tony said, rolling up the sleeves of the sweatshirt. "Cookies. What kind of cookies do you like best?"

Clint thought for a moment. "Chocolate chip?" he said. "And Coulson's sister made peanut butter cookies once. Those were pretty good too."

"How about chocolate chip peanut butter?" Tony suggested, moving over to the cupboard. "J, pull up a recipe for the best chocolate chip PB cookies you can find."

Scarcely had the words left his mouth than his phone beeped with an incoming message. Tony pulled it out and examined the screen. It looked like they would need peanut butter, butter, white sugar, brown sugar, an egg, milk, vanilla extract, flour, baking powder, salt and chocolate chips. He turned the oven on, then walked over to the refrigerator and scanned the contents until he found butter.

"Hmm, it says we're supposed to have softened butter," Tony muttered, scratching the back of his head. He wished he'd looked at the recipe earlier. The butter they had was straight out of the refrigerator, and it was pretty hard.

"We could microwave it," Clint said.

Tony looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. "Yeah, okay, that makes sense to me. Let's see, it says we need a half a cup. It doesn't say how soft it needs to be."

"Peanut butter is soft," Clint pointed out.

"Also a good point. Okay, can you grab me some measuring cups?"

"Sure!" Clint chirped, rushing across the room.

"And some measuring spoons too!" Tony called after him, opening a couple of cupboards at random until he found where Steve kept the metal bowls. He pulled out one that seemed like it would be a good size and set it on the table.

"Here you go!" Clint returned, holding the cups and spoons aloft like a prize. Tony grinned at him.

"Thanks, baby. Set them on the table. I need a half cup one."

Clint spread the cups and spoons out on the table and surveyed them until he found a half cup one. He grabbed it and held it out to Tony, who took it and spooned in some butter. Or tried to, anyway. The block was so hard that he actually ended up having to shave off slices until the cup was mostly full. Then he grabbed it and stuck it in the microwave, at which point he was seized with a new question.

How long did it take to soften butter?

"Let's try a minute," he muttered. That was roughly how long it took to heat up a cup of cold coffee.

He pressed the start button and turned back to the directions. They needed the peanut butter, white sugar and brown sugar and it had to be all mixed together. He picked up a cup and carefully measured out enough peanut butter, scooping it into the bowl. Clint was watching him like a hawk. Tony smiled and grabbed another half cup, handing it over.

“Here, can you get me some white sugar?”

“This?” Clint asked, grabbing a container.

“Ye-no! That’s salt.” Tony quickly grabbed the container, swapping it out for the sugar. Thank goodness he’d noticed. The cookies only called for a quarter teaspoon of salt, not a half cup. 

He watched as Clint, forehead wrinkled in concentration, carefully measured out exactly one half cup of white sugar and dumped it into the bowl. Then, following Tony’s direction, he did the same thing with the brown sugar. Tony pretended not to notice the three lumps of brown sugar that were slipped into Clint’s mouth. It was pretty hard to scold when the result was a shameless, sugary grin from Clint that warmed him from fingers to toes. 

The microwave beeped and Tony opened it. He paused when he saw that the butter was soft enough that it had started to melt. Well… that was soft, wasn’t it? And some of the other ingredients were liquid too. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be. It would combine easily with the peanut butter and sugar like this. He picked up the cup and carefully poured the butter over the mixture in the bowl. The bowl was pretty full already and he eyed it, wondering if he should’ve chosen a bigger one.

“Can I do this?” Clint asked, grabbing the hand mixer, and Tony forgot about the bowl in his haste to take the mixer away from Clint.

“Sorry, kiddo. That’s an adult only thing,” Tony said. The mixer wasn’t too hard to operate, but he had a vision in his head of Clint getting his fingers stuck between the beaters while they were functioning. A visit to Doctor Bruce Banner was not in the cards today. “But if you could plug it in for me, that would be super helpful.”

Clint obliged and Tony switched the mixer on. The instructions didn’t specify how fast to make it go, but he assumed that faster was better so he flipped it up to full speed and stuck it into the bowl.

That was a mistake.

Tony yelped and Clint cheered as melted butter, peanut butter and sugar went _everywhere_ , flung far and wide thanks to the rapidly spinning beaters. He scrambled to shut the mixer off, but it was too later. There was nothing left in the bowl, but Clint had butter running down his cheek and peanut butter in his hair and a fine dust of sugar covering everything else. Tony had the feeling that he had fared no better; the clump of peanut butter stuck to his goatee only underscored that theory.

“Uh,” Tony said, blinking through gobs of butter and sugar.

“I’m sorry!” Clint said, looking horrified.

“Sorry – what? Baby, this wasn’t your fault. That one was all on me. Pepper warned me that faster wasn’t always better. I’m never going to hear the end of this.” Tony sighed dramatically and lifted a hand to wipe at his face. “Also, I think the bowl was too shallow.”

“Oh.” Clint bit his lip, looking disappointed. “Well, it was fun. Thanks for baking with me, Mama.”

“Don’t say thanks like we’re done!” Tony moved over to the sink and turned the water on. At one time he would’ve just stuck his head under the faucet, but thanks to Afghanistan that was a panic attack waiting to happen. Instead, he grabbed a cloth, wet it, and briskly wiped down his face, hair, hands and arms. He’d definitely need a shower later, but there was no point in that yet. He had the feeling things were going to stay messy.

Clint was watching him with wide, questioning eyes. Tony washed the cloth out, wet it again, and then did the same thing to Clint. Surprisingly, Clint submitted to the scrubbing without protest. 

“There, that’s better. Okay, let’s try this again. Can you measure me out two more half cups of sugar?”

Clint’s eyes lit up. “Sure!”

“You’re the best helper I’ve ever had,” Tony told him, measuring out more butter and sticking it into the microwave. He punched in the time, watching Clint out of the corner of his eye just to see the pleased smile on Clint’s face, and then turned to the peanut butter.

“I think Dummy would be jealous if he heard you say that,” Clint said.

“Yeah, well, you’ve never sprayed me with a fire extinguisher, so there you go,” Tony said dryly. Clint giggled and carefully carried the sugar back over to him. Tony bent down and picked out a larger bowl, then dumped the sugar and peanut butter into it. Realizing that the microwave hadn’t beeped, he peered into it and saw that the butter was melting.

Shit. Quickly, he stopped the microwave and took it out. It was a little more melted than it had been the first time around, but it was technically soft. He swirled it around the cup experimentally, then shrugged. Soft was soft, right? He poured it into the bowl and then picked up the beater. Clint took a couple steps back, grinning, and held his hands up protectively over his face. 

“Rude,” Tony muttered, turning the beater on to the lowest setting. He gingerly lowered it into the bowl and breathed a sigh of relief when the ingredients stayed where they were supposed to be. He glanced at the instructions and began to slowly mix the ingredients together.

“What’s next?” Clint asked.

“I need an egg, milk, and vanilla extract. Can you get those for me?” Tony asked, scanning the recipe.

Clint nodded and scurried over to the cupboard. He found the vanilla extract, then went over to the refrigerator. When he emerged holding an egg and the milk, Tony frowned. He was opening his mouth to tell Clint to carry one thing at a time when Clint fumbled. Like it was happening in slow motion, they both watched the egg slide out of his fingers and fall to the floor, where it split open and sent goo everywhere.

“Oops,” Clint whispered.

“It’s fine. Bring the milk and vanilla extract over and then grab another egg,” Tony said. “Be careful that you don’t slip.”

Still looking guilty, Clint carried the milk and vanilla extract to the table. Tony measured them out while Clint went back for the egg. He allowed Clint to crack the egg into the bowl, even though it meant that they then had to fish out a few egg shell pieces. Putting the flour, baking powder and salt into another bowl went smoothly, and Tony was just beginning to hope that things might actually turn out well when he finished combining all the ingredients and realized that something, somewhere, had gone wrong.

“It… doesn’t look right,” Clint said hesitantly, peering over Tony’s shoulder.

“Well, we haven’t added the chocolate chips yet,” Tony said, but he knew what the kid meant. The dough was way too liquidy. Experimentally he scooped up a spoonful and set it on a baking tray, forming it into a ball, but the second he took the spoons away it wouldn’t stay together. It slowly sank in on itself and spread, forming an unappetizing pool of what was supposed to be raw cookie dough.

“What happened?” Clint asked.

Tony sighed and ran over their steps in his mind, but there was only one conclusion to draw. “I think I melted the butter too much,” he said sadly.

Clint looked from Tony to the bowl and back again. “Again?”

“Why not?” Tony said, eyeing their remaining ingredients. He thought they probably had enough butter left one more try, and it was at room temperature now which would just have to be soft enough. He certainly was not going to put it into the microwave again!

He dumped the dough into the garbage and quickly washed the bowl. While he was doing that, Clint measured out the sugar, butter and peanut butter. Tony patted him on the shoulder in thanks and let him dump the ingredients into the bowl. He started the mixer again and mixed very carefully, moving the beaters in small increments until everything was solidly mixed together. 

“One egg, milk, and vanilla extract,” Clint said, popping up at the table with one egg in hand. He set it very gently on the table and smiled at Tony.

“Exactly right,” Tony said. “Can you crack the egg again for me?”

The concentration on Clint’s face as he picked up the egg and lightly tapped it against the side of the bowl was adorable. When the shell cracked, Clint carefully pulled it apart and let the gooey insides fall into the bowl. He leaned over to look, examining the contents of the bowl, then grinned victoriously.

“No shells!” he cheered.

“Great job,” Tony said, smiling back. “Now we add the milk and vanilla extract. While I do that, can you mix up the baking powder, salt and flour with a spoon?”

“Yup!” Clint grabbed another bowl and bent his head to his task. 

For what seemed like the twentieth time, Tony started the mixer. He was beginning to have new appreciation for bakers. This was a lot harder than it looked. He mixed the contents of the bowl, then allowed Clint to add some of the dry ingredients while he kept mixing. The dough slowly thickened, turning the consistency that he thought he remembered seeing when Ana Jarvis used to let him help her bake.

“That looks better,” Tony said, giving the bowl a shake. The dough barely moved and, when he scooped some up on a spoon, retained its shape easily.

“Chocolate chips now?” Clint asked.

“Chocolate chips now,” Tony agreed, offering the bowl to him. With a bright grin, Clint dumped in the whole bag. The whole, double-sized bag. Tony stared into the bowl and realized that these were going to be the chocolatiest peanut butter cookies ever. Perhaps he shouldn’t have let a little kid be in charge of that part.

“Stir, stir!” Clint said.

“Right.” Tony shook his head and picked up a spoon, since the recipe said to do this part manually. He carefully folded in the massive amount of chocolate chips, until it seemed like they were spread out evenly. 

They had taken so long that the oven was definitely heated. Tony spooned out a dozen blobs onto a baking pan, waved Clint back, and then slid the tray into the oven. He checked the recipe again and saw that the cookies would take approximately twelve to thirteen minutes to cook, which meant they had a little time. He looked back at Clint, who was sneaking bites of cookies dough, then around the kitchen. These cookies had been hard-won: the kitchen was a disaster area, but at least Clint was smiling and seemed happy. Tony counted that as a win.


	18. Chapter 18

Approximately twelve minutes after Tony had set the first tray of cookies in the oven, the buzzer went off. Clint, who’d plunked himself down on the floor in front of the oven to watch the cookies as they baked, let out a squeak and grabbed at the handle. Tony had mistakenly believed that his days of moving that fast without the armor were over; he practically _leapt_ across the kitchen, grabbing Clint’s hand and pulling it away.

“No!” he said sharply. “You don’t touch the oven, Clint. You could easily burn yourself.”

Clint opened his mouth to protest, then, seeing the firm look on Tony’s face, pouted and closed it. Tony stared down at him, belatedly realizing that he and Steve hadn’t really thought to child-proof the floor before Clint came to stay here. Weren’t there things that parents were supposed to do when young kids were around? It just hadn’t occurred to him before because Clint was typically pretty well behaved. But when he was in his headspace, he was impulsive. He got excited. He didn’t always think.

“Mama?” Clint said hesitantly.

“What?” Tony said, running a hand through his hair. His hand came back covered in flour and - was that cookie dough?

“The... the cookies?”

“The – oh shit!” Tony grabbed a pair of oven mitts and gently pushed Clint back. He pulled the oven door open, letting out a blast of heat, and picked up the tray of cookies. They looked slightly browner around the edges than the pictures online had showed, but he hoped that wouldn’t affect the taste of them too much.

He carried the tray over to the counter and set it down on the cutting board, then looked for Clint. The kid had gone to sit at the table near the bowl. Feeling slightly guilty, Tony took another cookie tray and moved over to join him. They’d made a big enough batch of dough that they could easily get another two or three dozen out of it if he made the cookies small enough. 

“Are you mad at me?” Clint asked.

Tony sighed. “No, baby, I’m not mad. I was scared. You could’ve really hurt yourself by touching the oven when it was on.”

“I just wanted a cookie,” Clint said, chin wobbling. The sight of it broke Tony’s heart. He put the tray down and reached out, wrapping his arms around Clint. The way that Clint immediately snuggled into his grip told him that it had been the right move.

“I know you did. But the oven is hot, and so are the cookies. I didn’t want you to burn yourself. You need to let me handle the oven when we bake together, okay?” Tony said. 

“Okay.”

And maybe he’d look up baby proofing later, Tony thought to himself as they hugged. He couldn’t believe that he and Steve had overlooked something so obvious. At any time, Clint could’ve turned a burner on and then stuck his hand on it, or he could’ve switched the oven on and burnt himself. Just the thought of all the things he could potentially get into made Tony a little dizzy, and he hugged Clint that much tighter. He’d have to make sure that JARVIS limited Clint’s access when it came to the appliances in the tower.

"Does this mean we have to stop baking?" Clint asked after a moment.

Tony set his jaw and shook his head. "Of course not. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to scoop out another dozen cookies and get them into the oven. While they're cooking, we're gonna have glasses of milk and taste the cookies that are already baked. How does that sound?"

"We get to _taste_ them?" Clint repeated, eyes widening with wonder.

"You bet! When I used to help Ana bake, she always let me get the first taste. She said she wanted me to taste it before she tried it, so that I could tell her whether it was good or not," Tony said, releasing Clint from the hug after scruffing the kid's hair one last time. Now, he knew that Ana had recognized that a seven-year-old boy would be just dancing with the desire to try what they'd baked and had put him out of his misery by giving him the first piece. 

"What was she like?" Clint asked, moving over to lean against Tony's side as Tony began scooping out more of the dough. "You talk about her a lot."

"I do?" Tony said, genuinely startled.

"Her and Jarvis. They make you sound happy."

Clint was one perceptive kid. Tony stared at the dough. "I guess in a lot of ways she and Jarvis were my second parents. Howard was... gone, a lot. And my mother had a lot of charity work that kept her extremely busy. She started the Maria Stark Foundation, you know. Jarvis was my dad's butler, but he and Ana put a lot of work into raising me. They were both wonderful people. Jarvis had the patience of a saint. No matter what I got into, he never yelled at me or lost his temper. He was proud of everything that I did." He paused, remembering how Jarvis had reacted to being shown Tony's inventions versus how Howard had always reacted. Were it not for Jarvis's kindness and patience, Tony might've given up inventing a long time ago.

"He sounds kind of like our JARVIS," Clint said.

"I modeled our JARVIS after him in a way," Tony replied, moving to place the second tray in the oven. He set the timer and then reached for a spatula, quickly lifting several of the cooling cookies off the tray and onto a plate. They'd share the rest of the cookies with the team, but he figured he and Clint deserved this first batch to themselves after all of their hard work. That was something else Ana had taught him.

He poured them both glasses of milk, making sure that Clint's milk went into a sippy cup, and returned to the table. As he handed Clint the sippy cup, he said, "Ana passed away when I was only nine. It was the year before I was sent away to boarding school, actually. She ruled the kitchen. I remember she always smelled like vanilla. It was my favorite scent for a long time because it made me feel like I was at home again. When I went away to boarding school, I took a little bottle of her perfume with me so that I could remember what she smelled like."

Tony paused there, a little surprised at himself. He hadn't really remembered taking Ana's bottle of perfume until this very moment, but now he could see the image in his head clear as day: laying on that old, creaky bed, breathing in the scent of perfume until his nose got too clogged up from crying to be able to smell it anymore. The first time he'd gone after leaving, he'd been terrified that Jarvis would be angry that he'd taken the perfume. His resolution not to say anything about it even if asked had lasted until Jarvis picked him up from the airport; one look at Jarvis and Tony had burst out crying, the whole story spilling out. Jarvis had simply hugged him.

"My mom used to smell like peppermint," Clint volunteered unexpectedly. "But I think it was because she used to keep peppermint gum in her purse. I remember my brother stole a piece one time and blamed it on me."

"Brothers can be awful like that," Tony said, blinking away the memory. 

Clint shrugged. "Was Ana nice?"

"Yes. Well, sometimes. Actually, she could be quite nasty when she wanted to be," Tony said with a chuckle. "She had a temper. It was a good thing Jarvis was so laidback. But she was always kind to the people that she loved the most. If she got mad at you, it was because she loved you." He took a cookie and broke one in half, handing half to Clint. "Why all the questions about Ana and Jarvis, squirt?"

"If they were still here, they'd be my grandparents. I wanted to know so that I could imagine what that would be like."

Oh. Tony sudenly wished he was sitting, because his knees felt a little weak. He stared at Clint, who didn't seem to think there was anything shocking about what he'd just said; all Clint did was eat the piece of cookie he'd been given in one bite and reach for another. Grandparents. Tony hadn't even thought about that. But Clint was right, wasn't he? Ana and Jarvis were better parents to him than Howard and Maria had ever been. And both of them would've adored Clint. Ana in particular possessed endless patience with children. She would've delighted in having another kid to shadow her.

He wished they were here. It hit him without warning. Ana and Jarvis and Aunt Peggy. The three most important people from his childhood. Tony exhaled slowly and reached out to grab his glass of milk, hoping that a drink would help to calm this unexpected surge of emotion. But he hadn't expected that the glass would be slippery from condensation, and it slipped from his grasp. Before he could react, it hit the floor and shattered. Shards of glass and a pool of milk flowed across the floor in all directions. Clint yelped and quickly pulled his bare feet away from the approaching puddle of milk.

"Don't move!"

Tony jumped and knocked half the cookies on the plate onto the floor. "St-Steve?!"

Steve swept into the room, still wearing a jacket. "Don't move," he said again. "You're both bare foot and the glass is everywhere."

"Papa! Mama and I made cookies!" Clint climbed up on the chair and then literally jumped into Steve's arms. 

"I see that," Steve said, kissing Clint's cheek. "But right now, Mama and I need to clean up this mess. Why don't you go watch some cartoons?" He carried Clint over to the kitchen door and set him down safely outside the room. Clint scampered away, no doubt relieved to avoid being roped into helping with clean up.

"Sorry about that. We kind of made your kitchen into a disaster," Tony said, starting to stand.

"I said, don't move!" Steve practically leapt across the kitchen, scooping Tony up into his arms bridal style. Tony froze, face heating up immediately. Steve had held him like this before, of course, but it was always during the heat of battle. And usually Tony was inside the armor. 

Now, he could feel Steve's strong arm against his lower back. Another arm was looped beneath his knees. Just like when he picked Clint up, Steve wasn't even straining. He held Tony against his chest as he made his way back towards the door, glass crunching beneath the boots he was wearing. Like Tony was something fragile. It shouldn't have felt as good as it did, considering that Tony was perfectly capable of taking care of himself and that he'd had way worse than a couple scratches from glass. This was just Steve overreacting. Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell Steve to put him down.

"You stay here until I get the glass swept up. You're not even wearing slippers," said Steve, which was true. Tony had kicked off his slippers at some point.

"I'll get the broom and dustpan," Tony said. The back of his neck felt hot as he scurried away. Maybe he could convince Steve to hold him up against a wall tonight. What would it be like to be suspended in air by Steve's hands and hips and cock, unable to do anything but squirm around and take it as Steve gave it? Just the thought of it made heat fizzle under Tony's skin for a wholly different reason.

He fanned himself absently as he grabbed the broom and returned, passing it off to Steve. He watched as Steve picked up the bigger chunks of glass and disposed of them, then began sweeping the floor. The buzzer went off for the oven; Tony took a chance, tiptoeing into the room and pretending he didn't see Steve's annoyed look. He couldn't let the cookies burn after he and Clint had worked so hard on them! He drew the tray from the oven and carefully set it down. They could wait a few more minutes to put the next batch in.

"Sorry I scared you," Steve said finally. "I thought you heard me."

"It's okay. Clint and I have been pretty distracted all day. We've been baking." Tony leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "Originally we were going to do cookies and a pie, but..." He gestured at the room. He was pretty sure that attempting a pie would just end with the kitchen on fire at this point.

Steve's lips quirked into a smile. "Well, it is getting late. Maybe you can do a pie another day."

"That works for me," Tony said. "How was your day?"

"Fine. Pretty uninteresting, all things considered. Best part was coming home to you and Clint." Steve finished sweeping and knelt with the dustpan. On his way to the garbage, he dropped a quick peck onto Tony's lips.

That wasn't nearly enough. Once Steve had dumped out the garbage, Tony grabbed him and pulled him in for a longer kiss. He could feel Steve smiling as they kissed, and when they separated Tony smiled too as he whispered, "Hi."

"Hi," Steve whispered back, rubbing their noses together. "I missed you."

How was it that Steve could go from super sexy to super sweet in the span of a minute? Tony didn't get it. "I missed you too."

They hugged for a few moments, until Steve sighed. "I should probably clean up that milk."

"I dropped it. I'll get it." Tony pushed him away and snagged a few paper towels, moving over to soak up the milk. The whole kitchen needed a good cleaning now that he was distracted from their baking efforts. He'd have to get Steve off this floor tonight and call in the cleaners. Otherwise, Steve would be up all night.

"Can I try a cookie?" Steve asked behind him.

"Sure. But just one. The rest are for after team supper."

"I forgot about that," Steve said, voice muffled. "Mind if I get changed and run out for a few minutes?"

"Go ahead," Tony said, twisting to see that Steve had crumbs on his lower face. He bit back a grin. Sexy to sweet to utter dork.

He cleaned up the rest of the milk and then got another tray of cookies into the oven. There was enough dough left over for half a fourth tray. Within half an hour, the rest of the cookies were baked and Tony was able to do some minimal clean-up. He had JARVIS put in a call to the cleaning company and then put the cookies into a container. He checked quickly on Clint, who was watching the television as if mesmerized, and hurried off to take a quick shower. This time, he picked out a pair of pink bikini-style panties with white ties at the hips. Pulling them on felt natural.

After rounding up the kid, they took the elevator down to the main floor. Natasha and Bruce were already there. Bruce was reading the newspaper while sipping a cup of tea, and Natasha was watching some show. Clint joined her on the couch and started trying to talk her into changing the channel. Tony took the cookies into the kitchen and hid them, knowing that if they didn't, they'd all be gone before the take-out even got here.

"Chinese tonight!" Natasha called as she sacrificed the remote to Clint.

"Got it," Tony shouted back. "J, place our usual order."

Thor, Jane, Darcy and, surprisingly, Pepper wandered in shortly after. Steve didn't show up until the food did, arriving with several bags tucked beneath his arms. He was relieved of his burden fairly quickly by the rest of them. Tony was stalking after a giggling Darcy, who was clutching the bag of egg rolls to her chest, when Steve caught his hand to stop him.

"I have something for you."

"Is it better than egg rolls?" Tony said.

Steve smiled. "I hope so. Here."

Curious, Tony took the bag and opened it. His eyes widened when he saw the small bottle of perfume. Slowly, he picked it up and caught a whiff of the scent. Vanilla and... oh god. Peppermint.

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop," Steve said sheepishly. "But I heard you and Clint talking, and -"

"You're such a sap," Tony said, clutching the perfume bottle in one hand and reeling Steve in with the other. He kissed his boyfriend as hard and passionately as he could, trying to pour everything he couldn't say into that one kiss. Perfume. Steve had bought him _perfume_. Steve looked a little dazed when Tony released him. Tony let him recover, and gently sprayed some of the perfume onto his wrists and neck. The scent was sweet without being cloying. It was definitely not cologne. He couldn't stop smiling as he and Steve walked into the kitchen to join the rest of the team, especially when Natasha gave him a grin and a thumbs up and Pepper complimented Steve's taste in perfume.

He was the luckiest person in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/)


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